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Negress of the Market. 



PARISIAN IN BRAZIL. 



TRANSLATED FROM THE FRENCH OF 

MME. TOUSSAINT-SAMSON 

BY 

EMMA TOUSSAINT. 



WITH ORIGINAL ILLUSTRATIONS. 



■ 

BOSTON : 
JAMES H. EARLE, Publisher, 

178 Washington Street. 
1891. 



Copyright, 

1890, 

By JAMES H. EARLEo 






Alfred Mudge & Son, Printers, 
Boston, Mass. 



i0009 



TO 



MONSIEUR LOUIS JACOLLIOT. 



1T7HILE you are musing on the shores of the ocean, 
' " or in your charming Indian villa, oblivious of 
Paris and the Parisians, I, my dear friend, frequently 
think of the indefatigable traveller, of the passionate 
admirer of India, whose accounts have had such 
success, and which have kept me spellbound whole 
evenings, and it is to give him a proof of my strong 
fellow-feeling that I beg him to accept the dedication 
of this little volume, which he frequently urged me 
to finish. 

May he, in reading it, not repent too deeply his 
imprudent counsel ! 

AD. TOUSSAINT-SAMSON. 



HPHE translation of this book is a loving tribute 
A to its authoress. The incentive to work : the 
memory of my dear mother, with the constant encour- 
agement of my father. 

EMMA TOUSSAINT. 
Aspinwall Ave., Brookline, 1890. 



CONTENTS. 



PREFACE 7 

Part L — LIFE ON BOARD . . . 15 

THE CLIPPER "LA NORMANDIE." — ADIEUS TO FRANCE. — 
FIRST NIGHT ON BOARD. — THE PASSENGERS. — ARRIVAL 
AT BRAZIL. — THE BAY OF RIO JANEIRO. — THE MINAS 
NEGRESSES. 

Part II. — RIO JANEIRO . . . . 43 

DIRCITA STREET. — THE BAIHANAS. — THE STREET OF DO 
OUVIDOR. — THE CORCOVADO. — THE STREET OF ROSARIO. 

— THE YELLOW FEVER. — MY FIRST WORD OF PORTU- 
GUESE. — PUNISHMENTS INFLICTED ON THE NEGROES. — 
THE PROCESSIONS. — - A DARK HISTORY. 

Part III. — LA FAZENDA . . . . 71 

DEPARTURE FOR THE PIEDADE. — THE PAGE. — LA BOIADA. 

— THE FEITOR VENTURA. — THE PRAYER OF THE NEGROES. 

— THE DISTRIBUTING OF RATIONS. — THE BATUCO. — THE 
FEILICEIRO. — THE SERPENTS. — THE MULATTRESSES OF 
THE FAZENDA. — THE WIFE OF THE ADMINISTRADOR. 

Part IV. — AMONG THE PEOPLE . . 109 

OUR CONSUL AND OUR MINISTER AT RIO JANEIRO. — HOW 
THE FRENCH LADIES ARE CONSIDERED. — ECCENTRIC MER- 
CHANDISE. — A CONSCIENTIOUS COMMERCIAL FRIEND. — 
LOVE IN BRAZIL. — A LOST WAGER. — THE BRAZILIAN 
LADIES. — THE COURT. — THE FUNERALS. — THE THEA- 
TRES. — THE LITERATURE. — TEMPEST AT SEA. — THE 
RETURN. 

APPENDIX . . . . . • .151 



PREFACE. 



IF it has ever happened, reader, that you have 
been once in your life in pursuit of a pub- 
lisher, I can feel assured of your sympathy, 
and can begin the history of this book. When I 
returned from Brazil some years ago, bringing 
from that country and its inhabitants notes gath- 
ered during my long sojourn at Rio Janeiro, which, 
in default of other merit, had at least that of the 
most scrupulous veracity, and to which were added 
the photographs of the principal churches and 
public places of the capital of Brazil, likewise the 
types of Indians, mulattoes, and negroes taken from 
life, I imagined that all this would offer some 
interest to my compatriots, and that I could easily 
have it published. I had completely forgotten the 
usages and customs of my native land, as you will 
easily see. I wrote, to begin with, to the principal 
editor of one of our leading illustrated papers, to 
whom I was not unknown, offering him my 
" Sketches of Brazil." His reply was not tardy in 
coming : " There was no need of my troubling to 
send him my manuscript/' he wrote, " because he 
possessed so many documents on South America, 
and had already published so many things upon 
Brazil, that the subject seemed exhausted to him." 
I had, fortunately, the complete file of the paper 
up to that evening. I skipped eagerly to the 
index for Brazil, which referred me to three arti- 



8 PREFACE. 

cles, of twenty or thirty lines each, treating of the 
subject in question. The first gave the date of 
the discovery of America, likewise the name 
of the first navigators who took possession of 
Brazil. This was already quite spicy, you will - 
admit, and altogether new, above all. 

In the second article, which placarded the pre- 
tension of being a study of the habits of South 
Americans, the author, who had drawn his knowl- 
edge out of the accounts of travellers buried since 
half a century, taught me, who had lived twelve 
years in that country, a fact of which I was 
totally ignorant, which was to say, that the inhab- 
itants of Rio Janeiro never paid their calls but in 
full dress, short breeches, and three-cornered hats 
under their arms. Those of the interior, accord- 
ing to him, did not go out to go to church but 
upon large chariots of two wooden wheels, and the 
engraving which accompanied the text represented 
in effect the above-mentioned chariot, surmounted 
by a sort of dais, under which some women 
dressed in Spanish fashion were seated, with their 
legs dangling, while the negroes, dressed also in the 
fashion of the guerillas, were driving the team of 
oxen ; all this scene was passing in a naked and 
barren landscape, where one could see only rocks 
and sand. 

Now in Brazil the rocks even are covered 
with the most luxuriant vegetation. The walls of 
the habitations and the roofs are loaded with 
creeping plants. All this was therefore absolutely 
fanciful. 

If there ever had been any truth in the cos- 



PREFACE. 



tumes of the Brazilians depicted, it might date 
back to sixty years ago at least. Still, it seems 
that information of such freshness was amply 
sufficient to the Brazilian, who showed himself 
perfectly satisfied. 

Seeing this, I was obliged to bow, and address 
myself to another illustrated paper, in which I had 
already published several things. This was quite 
a different matter. 

" Are there tigers, serpents, missionaries eaten 
by savages, in what you bring me ? " 

Such was the director's first question. 

" My goodness ! no," I replied meekly. " I come 
to offer you a sketch of the habits and customs of 
a country which I have lived in twelve years ; I tell 
what I have seen, and don't invent anything." 

" So much the worse," he replied; " it's useless 
then to leave me your manuscript. We have re- 
cently published a novel whose scene is laid in 
Brazil, and which has had great success ; oncas, 
jaguars, boa-constrictors, and savages, — nothing 
was missing : it was very exciting. 

" I don't doubt it ; but without doubt the author 
had travelled in the interior and explored the whole 
country." 

" Not the leaSt in the world," laughingly con 
tinued the director of the paper. " The author, 
that's I. I had helped myself from several ac- 
counts, more or less true, on America, and had 
then sewn my fable. What is necessary before all 
is to amuse the reader." 

" But may one not hope to interest him, at least, 
with a true painting ? " 



10 PREFACE. 

" No : he needs, first of all, emotions " 
" Then serve him tigers ; as for me, I am grieved 
that I have not even the smallest one to offer you." 
And thereupon I left, carrying back for the second 
time my manuscript in its virgin purity. 

" Since the papers refuse my ' Souvenirs of Bra- 
zil/ " thought I, "then let me offer them to the 
public in book form." 

Therefore I gathered up my courage one day 
and went in search of an editor. As I was about 
to speak, to explain what I had brought — " Before 
all/' speaking to me, "how many pages will it 
make?" 

"About two hundred and fifty, I think." 
" What ! you suppose ? you are not sure. That 
is not much, madam," he answered in a doctoral 
tone; "even with the engravings, it amounts to 
little ; we certainly should have to have one hun- 
dred pages more." 

"I should rather fear, perhaps, to add trifling 
details. I have chosen in my Souvenirs that which 
I thought interesting." 

"No matter! can't you embellish?" 
"I don't want to embellish." 
" Then stretch the matter, stretch it." 
"I desire still less to stretch, having always 
thought that one of the principal merits of style 
was conciseness." 

" That has something to do with it, really. One 
can see you are no longer in the swim, madam. 
Here is the manner in which our fashionable au- 
thors work Nowadays : They know that a volume is 
generally composed of at least some three hundred 



E \ 



PREFACEA 1 1 " 



pages, twenty-four lines each. What do they do ? 
They begin by dividing the number of pages of 
twenty-four lines, of which each must give so many 
words apiece ; then they make it their duty each 
day to fill out, say, fifteen or twenty pages, accord- 
ing to their more or less facility of work ; if the sub- 
ject has more, they cut it, if it has less, they stretch 
it ; and in this way, madam, they come up to the 
day and hour, and do not give their editors neither 
a word more nor less than was stipulated for." 

" You open up new vistas before me, monsieur ; 
nothing could seem better." 

"Now, isn't that so? We live in a practical 
age. And your title ?" 

" Dear me, monsieur, I don't know yet ; I had 
just simply taken ' Souvenirs of Brazil, by a Paris- 
ienne.'" 

"Impossible, madam, impossible! Who would 
read that ? The title is everything ! What would 
you say to a drama in the virgin forests ? " 

11 But, monsieur, I would say that my work does 
not enclose, unfortunately, the smallest drama in 
the virgin forests." 

"That's no reason; the title, madam, the title: 
there is everything in that ! Bring me three hun- 
dred pages and a good title, and we will manage it 
without my being obliged to read your manuscript. 
Just think about it." 

"I'll certainly think about it. All you want is 
three hundred pages and a title ; -that 's it, is n't it ? 
An revoir, monsieur." 

A second editor showed me a mountain of 
manuscripts, accumulated in a large room. " I 



r I2 \ PREFACE. 

must read all that before thinking of you," he 
said. " Come around in a year." 

At last, a third one, to whom I had been warmly 
recommended, decided to intrust my manuscript 
to one of his examiners, who declared in his report 
that my work was not in the tone of publication 
which they issued, but that its style was amiable. 
I was a woman : they could not allow me more ; 
that was already doing me a great honor. 

I then recalled in my mind all that had been 
told me. The one found the Brazilians of to-day 
like those of 1809 > the other asked for tigers and 
anthropophagi ; the third one only wanted a title 
and pages ; the fourth one put me off forever ; 
and finally the last, the only one who had read 
me, baptized my style as "amiable." It was the 
first time that this epithet had been given it. 
Until then it had been acknowledged, on the con- 
trary, as having qualities and defects entirely 
opposed. What to do then ? Give up producing 
my " Sketches of Brazil," since my compatriots 
were absolutely unwilling to have the real truth, 
and that I certainly was unwilling to laugh at them. 

"Let's lock all this up in my bureau," said I to 
myself, "and talk about it no more." Still, in the 
mean while, the Emperor of Brazil having come to 
Paris, I wished to prove to what degree all that I 
had written was true, since I did not fear to pub- 
lish it at the very moment when Dom Pedro II. 
was among us. I wrote, therefore, to Villemessant, 
to ask him if he would publish in the Figaro a frag- 
ment of my souvenirs which had a sketch of the 
Emperor and his whole family. 



PREFACE. 13 

He thought it would be exactly the thing, and 
gave me the hospitality of his paper, as he had 
done already several times, in remunerating me 
largely. But then, behold quite a different story ! 
The whole Brazilian colony residing at Paris rises 
up and declares it does not at all find my style 
amiable. I have said that the Brazilian race was 
degenerate : it is monstrous ! It seems, on the 
contrary, it can wrestle in strength and greatness 
with the most robust nations of the North. I have 
pretended that the Brazilian was indolent : nothing 
is more false ! I am assured that he is full of 
energy. I have announced he was proud : a crazy 
general rises up against this affirmation, and all 
the papers of Rio Janeiro confound me. The 
Emperor is appealed to, who, being the most 
libera! of all his subjects, does not find that there is 
reason to be stirred up. " For," he adds, " nations, 
as well as individuals, cannot judge themselves." 

In short, I have praised as well as blamed a 
nation congenial to me, and, above all, have not 
wished to exaggerate anything. 

When a Brazilian is represented to us, one is in 
the habit of making him a redskin with jewels on 
all fingers, and the manners of a savage or mon- 
key. I have wished he should be correctly known. 
I have shown him as he is, — intelligent, hospitable, 
very good in his family, and having progressed 
more in twenty years than any other nation in 
half a century. May he therefore permit me to 
tell him his defects as well as his virtues, so that 
the impartiality of my judgment may give that 
judgment all its value. May he know how to lis- 
ten to truth : it is the first sign of moral strength. 



14 PREFACE. 



And now, what must I think of my style ? Is 
it really so amiable as that gentleman said, or is it 
absolutely not so, as the Brazilians pretend ? It is 
for the public to give me its opinion, and its final 
judgment whether I was right in drawing out this 
book from the bottom of my bureau, where I had 
relegated it, and in hoping that these sketches 
upon the Brazilian habits and customs, absolutely 
true, may have some interest for my compatriots. 
I wish it, and ask also the Brazilians to receive 
them well ; for, whatever they may think, they 
have been written by an impartial but friendly pen. 



AD. TOUSSAINT. 



A PARISIAN IN BRAZIL. 



LIFE ON BOARD. 

PART I. 

THE CLIPPER "LA NORMANDIE." — ADIEUS TO FRANCE. — 
FIRST NIGHT ON BOARD. — THE PASSENGERS. — ARRIVAL- AT 
BRAZIL. — THE BAY OF RIO JANEIRO. — THE MINAS NE- 
GRESSES. 

WE had an uncle in America, and not of 
America, which is quite a different thing ; 
nevertheless, this good uncle having made quite a 
nice fortune in Brazil, we likewise got the idea of 
trying our fortunes. In ten years, we were told, 
we ought to be rich. Ten years of exile, — Jthat 
certainly was something ; but the country was 
so beautiful, and we would return so young still. 
There were many hesitations on my part, many 
tears shed ; then, finally, we formed our reso- 
lution, and after having embraced parents and 
friends, we got into the train. We were bound 
for Havre, where we were to embark for South 
America. 



l6 A PARISIAN IN BRAZIL. 

When we were near arriving at the Havre sta- 
tion, I perceived in the distance all those tall 
masts, pressed one against the other, which seemed 
a forest upon the sea. My heart stood still, and I 
understood by how many ties the father-land was 
dear to me. 

However, the die had been cast : we must go to 
the end. 

The clipper " La Normandie," which was to 
sail for Rio Janeiro, and on which our state-rooms 
were engaged, was swinging restlessly at anchor, 
like a horse pawing the ground, before starting. 
She was a fine vessel, whose immense sails would 
soon cause her to be cutting the waves like a bird 
through the air. My husband asked me if I would 
not like to visit her before our departure, which 
was set for the following morning. I consented, 
and ascended with him the steps, which all ships 
have at their sides when anchored. 

On the quarter-deck stood the officers of the 
ship, who came to salute us, and one of whom 
offered to show us his ship, " La Normandie." 

Really, there was nothing he failed to show us : 
from the quarter-deck, with its immense hen-coops 
filled with all kinds of fowl, to the bow of the 
vessel, where the crew sleep, amidst monkeys, par- 



LIFE ON BOARD. \J 



rots, and birds of all kinds ; from the pantry, with 
its long rows of cups, glasses, and plates, so well 
arranged that the smallest space is utilized, to the 
very top of the cabin, the steerage even ; we saw 
everything, and that which I inspected with the 
most attention was the room, that is to say, what 
must be henceforth for me drawing-room, dining- 
room, and study. 

As for our state-room, when I saw those two 
elevated frames, from which a little mattress twenty- 
four inches in width, placed on a board between 
two other boards, formed all the bed, I thought it 
would be impossible to ever get any rest, and I 
was not mistaken. 

A cow was installed in a little compartment of 
the prow where some sheep were already confined. 
Legs of mutton and hams were hanging from the 
rigging- The pantry and cupboards were filled 
with preserves of all kinds. The lockers on both 
sides of the vessel were being filled with vege- 
tables and fruits, which the peasants were bringing. 
This removed our fear, certainly, on the question 
of food. 

We returned to the hotel in silence, my husband 
and I, so lost in thought by the graven resolution 
which we had taken that we dared not exchange 



1 8 A PARISIAN IN BRAZIL. 

a word on the subject. What distressed me most 
was my child, for I was taking with me my eldest 
son, whom I was then nursing, and I was asking 
myself with anxiety how nurse and nursling would 
endure such a long voyage. I did not close an 
eye all night, and the next day, at eight o'clock in 
the morning, we were on board " La Normandie." 
Each passenger soon arrived with his baggage, 
which had to be taken down between decks by 
means of a tackle. Water was being supplied, 
coal was being put in, provisions were received ; 
there was a noise, a confusion, an incredible racket. 
Many friends and relatives accompanied the trav- 
ellers until the last moment, so that one heard 
only these words :* "You '11 write me just as soon 
as you have arrived/' " Give me your address as 
quickly as possible. ,, " Do not forget me." " Bon 
voyage" " Return to us with riches." "May 
God keep you ! " And during the half-hour which 
preceded our departure it was nothing but em- 
braces, tears, sobs, mingled with the yells of the 
sailors, the orders of the officers, the grating noise 
of the tackle, and the dull murmur of the waves 
as they beat against the sides of the vessel. 

Meanwhile, the boatswain's whistle had re- 
sounded : it was the signal of departure ; separa- 
tion must take place. 



LIFE ON BOARD. 19 



The boats approach, friends part, the anchor is 
raised, the sails swell. Good by, parents, friends, 
father-land ! The handkerchiefs still wave a little 
while, the pier vanishes in the mist, and the 
shor.es of France are effaced in their turn ; then 
nothing more, nothing but the heavens and seas 
in the horizon. Nearly all the passengers had re- 
mained on deck, — eyes moist, heart oppressed, — 
lost in their thoughts (the larger number), as long 
as their eyes could distinguish in the distance even 
but a vague outline of their father land. 

But all at once the heavens became overcast, the 
wind arose, hailstones appeared, and the rolling 
began. The countenances paled. My right-hand 
neighbor leaned forward on the rail of the vessel 
with significant shrugs ; the lady on my left was 
descending to her room, scarcely able to hold up ; 
a passenger, enveloped in his ulster, was stretched 
on the quarter-deck like a lifeless mass ; another was 
walking the deck at a great pace ; a dude was try- 
ing to smoke, and laugh with the officers, but, 
alas ! soon our hero began to totter, threw away 
his cigar, asked for a glass of Madeira, which he 
swallowed with one draught, and trying to keep up 
a smiling countenance to the last. Useless strug- 
gle ! The Madeira went to rejoin the cigar. It 



20 A PARISIAN IN BRAZIL. 

was then that the cabin-boy began to come up and 
go down without stopping : it was significant. 

One must have a strong stomach to resist all 
this ; further could I only keep up my courage 
while filling my lungs with invigorating sea air, 
which was blowing full in my face. But the wind 
becoming too high, I was forced to leave the deck 
and go down in the cabin, where a most pictur- 
esque sight met my gaze. Men were stretched on 
the end settees, some half asleep, others holding 
their heads in their hands, while the most coura- 
geous were walking the cabin at a great pace, 
pushed by the rolling at one time to the right, at 
another to the left. From each cabin were heard, 
in the midst of hiccoughs and groans, these words 
incessantly, " Cabin - boy ! cabin - boy ! " and the 
poor child, called thus from all sides, gave himself 
up to a continual taking and leaving of wash-bowls, 
which, we must acknowledge, was totally devoid 
of poetry. 

In the midst of all this, the dinner-bell had rung. 
The captain took his place at the head of the table, 
the first mate in the centre, and the purser at the 
foot. Hardly ever are the ladies at table on the 
first day at sea if it is rough weather ; some are very 
ill in their cabins, and the most valiant ones have 



LIFE ON BOARD. 21 



bouillon or a wing of chicken served on deck ; for 
one could not brave with impunity the unwhole- 
some emanations of the cabin. I can well tell you 
so, as I have taken the trip five times. Dinner 
over, and night at hand, one was obliged to resign 
one's self at last, and enter one's state-room, no 
matter what happened. In the little quadrangle 
allotted to one, and which contains two frames, or 
berths, a toilet commode, and some portmanteaus, 
when you happen to be two, you can hardly open 
or close the door ; you must therefore manage to 
get up and dress, one after the other. Under the 
lower berth you must be careful to have a little 
chest containing the body-linen necessary for your 
journey. 

Two strings are placed at the head and foot of 
each bed. It is here you will successively stow 
away your travelling-bag, your fruit, your opera- 
glass, the few books which will be your travelling 
companions, your blotting-case, your fancy work if 
you are a woman, your box of cigars if you are of 
the opposite sex. This installation completed, it 
will be necessary, to get to your bed in the upper 
berth, to be past master in gymnastics, as the stool 
upon which you must step in order to get there 
is being swung from right to left by the rolling. 



22 A PARISIAN IN BRAZIL. 

_ _ 

Still, after many attempts, you seize a good moment 
and dart upwards, and there you are, finally rest- 
ing between two boards which break your ribs, 
and constantly throw your poor body about as if 
you were the ball in a tennis court. Directly in 
front of me was an aperture by which I could dis- 
tinguish the high waves encircling the ship on all 
sides, and a bit of sky where dark clouds were 
running. I felt so small before this grand ocean, 
so isolated in the midst of this sky and this sea, 
so " uncomfortably " installed, as our neighbors of 
the British Channel would say, that I would at any 
price have escaped from reality by sleep. Further- 
more, did I draw it towards my assistance with all 
my being, and already was I beginning to feel its 
first drowsiness, when fresh hiccoughs were soon 
heard in the cabin adjoining ours, with the implor- 
ing cry, " Steward, a glass of sugar-water ! Cabin- 
boy, the wash-bowl ! " which was repeated with 
every shock of the waves. 

A little peace finally succeeded all this tumult. 
Ten o'clock had just struck. All was hushed. 
The steward had completed the making-up of his 
bed on one of the settees in the cabin. Well, 
finally we would be able to sleep, I thought. Vain 
hope ! Suddenly a child uttered piercing cries, and 



LIFE ON BOARD. 23 



another, our vis-a-vis, replied by the same method. 
Then my own child joined the party. 

" What is the matter, my darling ? " 

"I have hurt me."' 

" Drink a little water." 

"*No ; I don't want to stay in a bed which moves. 
I want to sleep in my own little bed, which don't 
move." 

" Poor darling ! Put your little arms around my 
neck." 

"Mamma, I feel sick." 

Farther on was a consumptive, who was groaning 
and coughing ; then the steward, tired of his day's 
work, was snoring at a terrible rate, and always, 
as an accompaniment to this tumult, the dull mur- 
mur of the waves beating against the sides of the 
vessel, the cracking of the timbers which seemed 
ready to burst asunder, the rolling which was 
shaking us incessantly, the dishes which were 
dancing in the pantry, and the wind which was 
blowing boisterously through the sails ; then at 
different times the noise of the manoeuvre and the 
monotonous singing of the sailors. 

All this, I can assure you, may give the un- 
happy passenger of a first night on board some 
foretaste of the infernal regions. 



24 A PARISIAN IN BRAZIL. 

Happily, towards three o'clock in the morning, 
succumbing to fatigue, we became unconscious of 
all; a heavy sleep was to restore our exhausted 
forces. Ah, well, yes ! four o'clock strikes ; im- 
mediately commences over our head the most hor- 
rible of mock serenades. A scraping, a brushing, 
a kicking begins, dull knocks awaken us by starts. 
Not knowing the meaning of all this noise, we 
hastened to go on deck, half dressed; but hardly 
have we risked it than we receive a large bucket 
of water over our feet, which gives us the key to 
all this bustle. All the sailors, legs and feet bare, 
are scrubbing the deck and quarter-deck ; and I 
can assure you .that neither hands nor buckets of 
water are spared. 

Hoping to resume our interrupted sleep, we 
regained, however, what was called our bed. But 
below the same racket soon begins. The steward, 
assisted by the cabin-boy, washes and cleans the 
cabin. When he has put everything in order, 
replaced the racks upon the table, polished the 
brasses, and that everything glistens to his heart's 
content, this king of the cabin gravely pulls a bell, 
signal for the first repast. It is seven o'clock. 

At this call, one state-room after another opens, 
to let forth heads more or less ridiculous in their 



LIFE ON BOARD. 2$ 



head-dresses of the night, some of whom even are 
decorated with the classic nightcap. The men 
group themselves around the table, taking coffee, 
tea, the majority liquor. 

It is rare, even during the most beautiful days, 
that the women ever appear at this first breakfast : 
the steward serves them in their state-rooms. 
Everybody after this is busy with their dressing 
and surroundings ; and when at ten o'clock the 
real breakfast hour rings, the doors reopen anew, 
to let pass this time carefully combed heads and 
freshly shaven chins. 

Now is the moment when all will find them- 
selves reunited for the first time, and know with 
whom they are travelling, for the evening before 
one had hardly caught a glimpse of their fellow- 
passengers. Each one looks at the other without 
recognition, yet with careful scrutiny. 

Rest assured, then, that the lady placed at the 
captain's right is the one whom this one con- 
siders the most noted of his lady passengers, either 
from the stand-point of beauty, or money, or that 
of social position. The lady placed at his left 
would naturally succeed the other as having right 
to attentions and little thoughtfulnesses. After 
this, the other lady passengers place themselves as 



26 A PARISIAN IN BRAZIL. 

they choose or agree. However, generally the 
most distinguished ones occupy the centre of the 
table, and the others the foot. 

Now, I think I must give you some advice, 
ladies: if ever you travel alone, be on board the 
most reserved possible ; for there is no little pro- 
vincial town, no janitor's closet even, where there 
is as much gossip as there. If you have, for travel- 
ling companions, English people, do not bow to 
them, above all, and do not even notice them the 
first eight days. The Englishman wishes to know 
whom he bows to, and gives himself the trouble of 
studying a little his people before risking the least 
politeness. Do you think he is very much in the 
wrong? But from the moment he has judged you 
worthy of his society, the Englishman becomes 
the most amiable travelling companion, obliging 
without being gallant, polished without flattery, 
and always a perfect gentleman in his relations 
with women. 

Unfortunately, it is not always so with our own 
compatriots while travelling, who, in the majority, 
do not always show themselves very proper, 
presently showing gallantry, bordering upon silli- 
ness, to young and pretty women ; by and by, 
rudeness, wellnigh vulgarity, towards old or ugly 



LIFE ON BOARD. 2J 



women ; they do not know whether to compromise 
a woman, or turn her into ridicule. Mistrust, 
above all things, ladies, the officers on deck. Noth- 
ing equals the conceitedness of these gentlemen ; 
they must at each passage inscribe a fresh con- 
quest 'on their list. As the attentions, the wel- 
fare, the thousand details of material existence, 
depend upon them in some way or other, there 
are no end of provocations and flirtations which 
the lady passengers permit in their favor. 

When, during one of these long voyages, there 
are on board one or two ladies, — how shall we 
say? — frivolous? yes, — well then, it is a race 
between them which one shall carry it off, by capti- 
vating the captain, the first officer, the purser. In 
reality, to be in the captain's good graces means 
to have the best place, the best cut, to have the 
tent spread on the after-deck on calm and sunny 
days, to have a comfortable easy-chair, to be au- 
thorized to keep light in one's state-room ; it is to 
obtain permission to have one's trunks carried up 
at any time from between-decks, so as to be able 
to exhibit each day a fresh toilet ; it is, in short 
and above all, to surpass all the other women. 
Judge of the efforts ! the many killing glances to 
^ret there ! 



28 A PARISIAN IN BRAZIL. 

There are generally on board three or four kinds 
of lady travellers, whom I have met with in all 
my travels. The first one is she whom I would 
call the poseitse. That one, on account of her 
rank or fortune, thinks herself so much above her 
fellow-travellers that she but rarely deigns to 
appear at table. Ordinarily, she is served in her 
state-room, occupies alone the best room, does not 
deign to exchange a few words but with the cap- 
tain, has an air of not even seeing the other people, 
passes two or three hours at her toilet, and does 
not put in an appearance until nearly two o'clock, 
always accompanied by her lady's-maid, carrying 
her cloak or her vinaigrette. 

The second one belongs to a certain class called 
— well, never mind. That one dresses two or 
three times a day, laughs and speaks very loud, is 
generally on the best of terms with the first officer 
and the purser, takes one day the airs of an ingt- 
nue, and the next day says things which would 
make a dragoon blush ; passes her days stretched 
at full length on the settees on deck, with her hair 
to the wind, without losing an occasion of showing 
foot and limb ; makes it uncomfortable for other 
women ; sings operatic airs when night ap- 
proaches; dances and waltzes Thursdays and Sun- 



LIFE ON BOARD. 29 



days ; remains on deck until one o'clock in the 
morning with the officers and gentlemen of her 
choice ; and defrays the voyage by a lot of epi- 
sodes more or less piquant. 

The third one of these lady travellers is the 
" earnest " one, or the " artiste ? speaking with all, 
without becoming intimate with any ; going on 
deck, when every one leaves it, to enjoy a beauti- 
ful sunrise or a fine moonlight ; arranging her day 
so as to keep a few hours for study or solitude, 
attending to her correspondence, reading, embroid- 
ering ; dressed simply, but gloved with care, and 
having well-fitting boots ; never joining in gossip, 
neither seeking nor escaping the society of her 
fellow-travellers ; not desiring to carry off any 
one's heart, remaining calm amidst all these little- 
nesses and all these vanities, incurring the respect 
of all, and frequently more surrounded at the end 
of the voyage than those who have tried to be so. 
It is in this class, ladies, that we advise you to 
place yourself if you ever happen to travel alone, 
which, we trust, you may not. 

From the second day of the voyage, every one 
has already their likes and dislikes. One ex- 
changes a few bows, even a few conventional- 
ities. The third day conversations are begun. 



30 A PARISIAN IN BRAZIL. 

There is the communicative passenger, who only 
asks* to disclose his heart to you, and tells you all 
his family histories ; he neither spares you a 
cousin nor an aunt, and interrupts, from time to 
time, to go and get a photograph of his father, 
mother, sisters, brothers, and cousins. You abso- 
lutely must know even about the nurse of his 
nephew. 

Then comes the melancholy passenger, a hand- 
some youth, who poses as "disappointed in love," 
while sending languishing glances to the ladies 
whom he softens, and who, all of them, would 
already console him. He exhibits, also, on certain 
clays, the picture of the hard-hearted one, which 
he keeps night and day upon his heart. That one 
has all the chances to be adored, for obstacle is 
a strong attraction, and each daughter of Eve 
dreams in secret to cure this poor lover of his 
unhappy passion. 

After this, we have the stirring-up passenger, 
always having a refrain on his lips, his mustache 
turned upwards, his trousers a la hussarde^ treat- 
ing the officers nearly every day to champagne, 
and paying court to the " free and easy one," and 
to the lady's-maid of the floseuse. 

Finally, the disagreeable passenger, always dis- 



LIFE ON BOARD. 3 1 



satisfied with the food, the steamer's progress, the 
manners of the officers, the bearing of the ladies, 
the weather, which he presently finds too hot, and 
by and by too cold. He speaks at low voice in a 
corner, like a conspirator, and tries to recruit around 
him all the disagreeables of the steamer. He is 
generally the one whom one sees appearing in the 
morning in the classic head-gear of a cotton bon- 
net or nightcap ; souvenir of his former trade, prob- 
ably. At the end of eight days, one knows the 
tastes and habits of each one. There is still, from 
time to time, some little event which breaks the 
monotony of every day, — a gold-headed doree 
has been caught, a shark is being harpooned, a 
cloud is in the sky ; those are the islands of the 
Green cape, which one sees, then the Azores ; then 
some ship is hailed ; but all this does not prevent 
time from hanging heavily on those especially who 
do not know how to employ themselves on sea as 
well as land. It is when arriving in this region, 
called by the sailors the Pot au noir, situated 
nearly under the equator, that the deck's physiog- 
nomy takes a strange aspect. Imagine, reader, an 
oppressive, heavy heat, debilitating and over-ex- 
citing all at once, where not a breath comes to 
spread the sails; the water of the sea resembles 



A PARISIAN IN BRAZIL. 



oil ; the least bit of sleep is only gained by leaving 
skylights open, and finally even the cabin doors 
are left open, for this loss of air from which one 
suffers so much ; one awakes at night with one's 
hair drenched in perspiration ; the women can 
only wear muslin wrappers ; the men, white trous- 
ers and coats ; all drag themselves about, hardly 
speaking; looks are languishing, and gallant adven- 
tures are the order of the day ; billets-doux are ex- 
changed, and a day does not pass that has not its 
little scandal and its attack of nerves. What do 
you wish? It is nobody's fault, apparently. This 
exciting temperature crazes one at such a point 
that at night I have often thought myself under the 
power of hashish, so much my mind was floating 
while waking and sleeping, taking alternately dream 
for reality, and reality for dream. It is there that 
the old women with the young hearts have chances 
of success. All men acknowledge it : in the Pot 
au noir women no longer have age, and those 
which were thought dreadful at the beginning of 
the voyage become suddenly charming, declara- 
tions abound, the defeats are numerous. Poor hus- 
bands, who allow your wives to travel alone, mis- 
trust yourselves of the Pot au noir. Finally, after 
five or six days passed in this suffocating region, 



LIFE ON BOARD. 33 



we arrive in the equator. Here will be baptized 
those who have not before passed it. The day 
of the passage of the line is still more crazy than 
the rest. I had read that the sailors disguised them- 
selves, and that one of them played the role of 
the rt Fathers " of the strait. That may be, but I 
have not seen it ; and I will never tell you anything 
that I have not seen, wishing that these notes on 
Brazil, in default of other merit, have at least that 
one of perfect veracity. 

I will therefore say, that when I passed for the 
first time on board a sailing ship I saw, the first 
thing in the morning, the young officers pursue 
with pails of water the passengers whose age would 
permit this fooling and baptize them by will or 
force, in leading even the reluctant ones under the 
pump (which, in these latitudes, has no difficulties). 
I also was prepared to be baptized, for there were 
among our passengers three creatures with whom 
I avoided speaking and whom I had often heard 
whisper when I passed them, " Haughty prude !" 
and other petty sayings of this kind. I was there- 
fore convinced that they would profit of the occa- 
sion that day to receive me with . some good 
bucketfuls of water. There was nothing of the 
sort. I was nursing at this time my eldest son, as 



34 A PARISIAN IN BRAZIL. 

I have said previously. The women respected in 
me the mother and the nurse. I was touched by 
this delicacy, which I certainly did not suspect in 
them, and not less touched in the evening, when 
the boatswain, who had composed for the occasion 
some verses where each passenger had his little 
hit, said, when coming to him, which was in run- 
ning verse, which I do not remember: "Hush! 
there is a mother who is rocking her child to sleep ; 
let us pass noiselessly, leaving the child sleep 
upon its mother's heart." 

The day was passed in shouts of laughter and 
chasing over the bridge or deck; the sailors had 
double rations, and danced in the evening, having 
as music the singing of their comrades and the 
roaring of the waves. Those who have not passed 
a night on the ocean, softly raised by the waves, 
lighted by a splendid moon, and lulled by the songs 
of the sailors, cannot get an idea of what is most 
grand and most poetic in the world. When, later, 
I have again found myself in a ball-room or thea- 
tre, and I have heard each one around me say, 
" Oh, how beautiful ! how fairy-like ! " I have 
called up in my mind the souvenir of a night on 
board ; I have seen again the vessel with its spread- 
ing sails cutting th§ waves, sinking softly to rise 



LIFE ON BOARD. 35 



proudly, in leaving behind her a headway of light ; 
I have seen again the pilot at th~ helm, the pas- 
sengers picturesquely grouped on deck, and fan- 
tastically illuminated by that silvered light of the 
moon which poetizes everything, the night-watch 
walking the deck with measured step, and the sail- 
ors at the head of the ship, in the rigging, on the 
mizzen-mast, singing in chorus the refrain which 
they love, " Toward the shores of France, sailing 
in singing, sailing softly ! " having always for an 
obliging accompaniment the murmuring billows 
and the slight crackling of the clipper cutting the 
waves. The immense ocean then seemed again 
new to me, blending with the sky at the horizon ; 
I seemed again to feel blowing over my face that 
fresh breeze of the ocean, impregnated with its 
perfume, and, casting my eyes about me, involun- 
tarily compared these shows of men with the mag- 
nificent spectacle of nature. How little, miserable, 
and prosaic all this seemed to me near the grand 
works of God ! No, I repeat it, no one who has 
not seen the grand ocean scenes can understand 
the sublime and lasting impressions they create. 
The soul receives an ineffaceable impression, and 
seems reaching towards eternity before the vast 
horizons. 



36 A PARISIAN IN BRAZIL. 

After this enthusiastic digression, which I hope 
my readers will pardon, I resume my narrative. 

If the passage is good, one arrives at Rio 
Janeiro, by a -clipper, in twenty-nine or thirty 
days, and in twenty days by a steamer ; but when 
the wind is contrary, quite frequently it takes even 
forty days. 

Two days before the arrival we had perceived 
land. What great joy for all to see again trees 
and vegetation, after so long a time passed between 
sky and water ! Everybody was on deck ; one no 
longer sleeps, one no longer eats any more. 

At last, here is Brazil, which appears with its 
bouquets of banana-trees and palm-trees. One 
begins to distinguish the chain of mountains called 
the Giant, which represents well enough in effect 
a man of colossal stature stretched at full length, 
and whose profile resembles that of Louis XVI. 
That one which is called the Pao d'assucar (Sugar- 
loaf) is the mountain which forms the foot of the 
Giant. It lies at the entrance of the bay of Rio 
Janeiro. Soon the ship enters the port, having at 
its right the fortress of Santa Cruz, and at its left 
the fortress of Sage, where it is hailed as it passes ; 
if it delays in stopping, a cannon-shot warns it not 
to continue its route. It then hoists its flag. 



Life on board. 37 



" Where does she come from ?" is asked. " How 
many days at sea ? " " What is her name and that 
of her captain ? " " Are there any ill on board ? " 
After having satisfactorily answered all these 
questions, she enters the bay, and throws anchor 
near a fort called Villa-Gaghao. Immediately two 
little boats approach her ; the one is the alfandega 
(custom-house boat), the other sande (health boat). 
The first one takes charge of the baggage and veri- 
fies the passports of the passengers; the second 
one, which has on board one of the principal physi- 
cians of the marine, who takes information as 
regards the sanitary conditions, and whether it is 
not necessary to quarantine the ship's crew. Dur- 
ing this time, arrive from all sides different shore- 
boats, of which the largest are called faltlas, and 
which take passengers with a part of their lug- 
gage. The heavy baggage is sent to the custom- 
house, where it will not be delivered until the next 
day, after the inspection. 

These faltlas — a kind of large bark with a 
high lateen-sail — are generally run by five robust 
negroes ; the boss sits at the helm, while the other 
four row lightly, in cadenza, rising on their seats 
with each stroke of the oar, reseating themselves 
to rise anew. This was one of my first surprises, 



38 A PARISIAN IN BRAZIL. 

that these blacks, naked to the waist, brutal and 
beastly faces, marked with large scars (when they 
are the Minas negroes), the perspiration, running 
down their body, impassible as statues, look at 
you without curiosity or surprise, and do not seem 
to trouble themselves neither about you nor any- 
thing else in the world, excepting to eat or sleep. 
These strange faces impress themselves. While 
they are rowing us on shore, throw a glance with 
me over this splendid bay, bordered on all sides 
with mountains covered with the most luxuriant 
vegetation. This one — all crooked and pointed — 
is called the Corcovado (the Hunchback) ; we will 
allow a few pages for it later. Here is another, — 
square at the top, — which is named Tiguca. The 
cascade it encloses is famous. It is one of the most 
beautiful sites in Rio Janeiro. Finally, at your 
left, the mountain, from which you see the fine out- 
lines detach themselves towards the blue sky, is 
the Serra dos Orgaos (Organ Mountain), because 
in effect its crests resemble the form of organs in 
a church. Charming islets are spread over the 
bay, the borders of which are filled with orange- 
trees, cotton-trees, and banana-trees, always green 
and laden with fruit ; the chacaras (villas) are situ- 
ated in the midst of these bouquets of trees, and 



LIFE ON" BOARD. 39 

on an elevation at your left rises the little church of 
da Gloria, under the invocation of Nossa-Senhora 
da Gloria. At the right of the bay is the island 
das Cobras (of Serpents), then San Domingo, 
and Praia-Grande, the ancient capital of Brazil. 
A pure- sky of a most superb blue above your 
head, a warm sun gilding the landscape, king- 
fishers diving about you and flying off with a sud- 
den flap of the wings with a fish in their beak, 
the sea blue and calm as a lake, a little breeze 
which comes to refresh you from far and wide, -^ 
this is what plunges you upon your arrival in a 
sort of beatitude and ecstasy ; you remain liter- 
ally dazzled. 

Well, at last the faltla lands : now we have ar- 
rived. The negroes step into the water and carry 
me off in their strong arms to land me on terra- 
firma, for the borders of the bay are but an in- 
fected basin of refuse of all kinds, decaying, and 
distributing the most nauseating emanations. 
This was our first disillusion. These shores, 
which from a distance seemed so beautiful and so 
perfumed, were the receptacles of the city's filth 
and rubbish. Since then sewers have been made. 
We landed at Farfi wharf, largo do paco (place 
of the palace). 



40 A PARISIAN IN BRAZIL. 



- 



The Emperor's palace was the first edifice which 
met our gaze. There is little about it to excite 
admiration. It is a large, square building, which, 
in landing, I took for barracks. In front of the 
palace is the market, which is really one of the 
most picturesque parts of the city. There the 
large Minas negresses, with their head-dress in the 
shape of a muslin turban, their faces full of scars 
and seams, having a chemise and a skirt with ruf- 
fles as their clothing, are squatted on mats, near 
their fruits or vegetables ; at their sides are their 
boys and girls, in complete nudity. 

Those whose children are still at the breast 
carry them fastened to their backs with a large 
piece of striped cloth, which then is passed two or 
three times around their bodies, after having first 
placed the child on their hips, feet and arms strad- 
dled. The poor little thing remains thus all day, 
shaken about by the movements of its mother, 
with its nose cushioned on her back when it sleeps, 
and having no holding-place, but rolling constantly 
from right to left ; its little limbs are so straddled 
by the violent stoop of the negress that many 
become bow-legged. 

Nothing more original than the aspect of this 
market, where are piled up oranges, bananas, man- 




My Negress "Romana." 



life On board. 41 



goes, Conda fruits, watermelons, pineapples, lemons, 
Indian pears, pomegranates, espinafres, palmitoes, 
batatas doces, in the midst of parrots of all kinds, 
of tatus, of monkeys, turkey-hens, and birds of all 
feathers or plumage. 

Farther on are found the sellers of mats, cocoas, 
gourds, and large jars, the smallest of which, called 
moringas, are the decanters of the country. 

At the end, looking towards the sea, is found 
the fish market, where abound sardines, shrimps, 
oysters, and delicious fishes, which are bought 
alive. All along the wharf, which borders the 
market on this side, are the canoes, or cances> 
where the fishermen sell the fish in lots. There 
stand, under large linen umbrellas, negresses, who 
serve you, for two cents, a bowl of hot coffee, or 
else some smoking batatas doces, fried sardines, 
and some angii (manioca flour mixed with boiling 
water and salt, and forming a sort of thick bouillon). 
The negroes, who are most dainty, even season 
everything with a sort of fat they call azeite de 
dindin {dindin oil). There, also, are sold the mas- 
sarocas of Indian wheat broiled, and the feijoada, — 
that is to say, all that constitutes, in Brazil, a 
negro's repast, and even that of the white people 
of the inferior classes. It is there that one must 



42 A PARISIAN IN BRAZIL. 

hear spoken that African language, which is called 
the coast language. Nothing more strange ; it 
seems as if no consonant entered. One can abso- 
lutely distinguish nothing but some " okui, ya 
ahua, o t y 9 o." I had learned a few words, which I 
have quickly forgotten. It is almost impossible to 
retain a language of which one completely ignores 
the orthography. 






I a 



RIO JANEIRO. 

PART II. 

DIRCITA STREET. — THE BAIHANAS. — THE STREET OF DO OUVI- 
DOR. — THE CORCOVADO. — THE STREET OF ROSARIO. — THE 
YELLOW FEVER. — MY FIRST WORD OF PORTUGUESE. — PUN- 
ISHMENTS INFLICTED ON THE NEGROES. — THE PROCESSIONS. 
— A DARK HISTORY. 

WHEN you enter the city of Rio Janeiro 
by the largo do pago, the first street 
which presents itself to you is Dircita Street 
(right). It is one of the most beautiful streets of 
the city ; it is quite wide, and bordered on each 
side by houses of one or two stories, painted in 
different colors, having, in the majority, their bal- 
conies decorated with red and white blinds. The 
majority of houses are of ancient construction ; 
many even have kept the verandas around the 
residences. This street is very lively, for it is 
here the stock exchange is held. Three or four 
beautiful churches, among others Santa Cruz and 
the church dos Carmos {see engraving), are remark- 
able. 



44 A PARISIAN IN BRAZIL. 

The whole length of the street, on the steps of 
the churches, or at the doors of the shops, are 
squatted the large Minas negresses (the Minas 
originally came from the province of Mina, in 
occidental Africa), adorned in their most beautiful 
things : a fine chemise, and a skirt of white mus- 
lin with ruffles, worn over another skirt of some 
bright color, form all their costume; they have 
their feet bare in a sort of slipper with high heel, 
called iamancasy where only the point of the foot 
can enter; their neck and their arms are loaded 
with gold chains, strings of pearl, and all sorts of 
pieces of ivory and of teeth, sort of manitous, 
which, according to them, must conjure evil for- 
tune ; a large piece of muslin is rolled three or 
four times around their head, turban shape, and 
another piece of striped cloth is thrown over their 
shoulders, to cover themselves with when they are 
cold, or to encircle their hips when they carry a 
child. (See engraving.) 

Many men find these negresses handsome; as 
for me, I acknowledge that the curled wool, which 
does duty for hair, their low and debased forehead, 
their blood-shot eyes, their enormous mouth with 
bestial lips, their disjointed teeth, like those of 
deer, as well as their flattened nose, had never 



RIO JANEIRO. 45 



appeared to me to constitute but a very ugly type. 
What is the least vulgar is their carriage. They 
walk with head held high, chest prominent, hips 
raised, arms akimbo, holding their load of fruits 
always placed on the head. Their feet and their 
hands are small, their waists are firm and curv- 
ing, and their walk, of easy gait, is always accom- 
panied by a movement of the hips quite suggest- 
ive, and yet filled with a certain dignity, like that 
of the Spanish woman. Their bosom is hardly 
veiled by their fine chemise, and sometimes even 
one breast is seen ; but few among them have fine 
necks. It is only in the very young mulat tresses 
that this beauty is sometimes found. 

As regards the negresses, nothing has been 
exaggerated in saying that they easily nursed their 
children placed on their backs. I have seen it 
done by some of my servants, only that it is really 
not from the middle of the back that the child 
nurses, but from under the arm. There is noth- 
ing more debauched than these Minas negresses ; 
they are the ones who deprave and corrupt the 
young people of Rio Janeiro ; it is not rare to see 
foreigners, especially Englishmen, maintain them 
and ruin themselves for them. 

It is not rare either to hear of the facadas 



46 A PARISIAN IN BRAZIL. 

(knife-cuts) given to the whites by the jealous 
blacks. 

When one desires these creatures, one has only 
to make them a sign, and they follow one. I have 
had some in my house, who, their work being fin- 
ished, would disappear to give themselves up to 
this fine trade, and found it very singular I should 
reprimand them on the subject. They 'd reply 
very simply, " I must go and earn something with 
which to buy a piece of lace. Our Brazilian ladies 
are not like madam, and allow us several hours 
each evening for that." 

My intention not being to give the nomenclature 
of the streets of Rio Janeiro and its monuments, 
I will leave the subject, after having said a word, 
however, on the street do Ouvidor, essentially a 
French street, where the stores of our modistes, 
of our hair-dressers, of our florists, and of our 
pastry-cooks are displayed in all their splendor. 
It is the daily rendezvous of the "young men 
about town," who, under the pretext of buying 
some cigars or cravats, come to flirt with the 
Frenchwomen, on whom they dote. This street, 
although narrow and ugly, is in some sort the 
Boulevard des Italiens of the capital of Brazil. 
One hears only French spoken, — and what a kind 



RIO JANEIRO. 47 



of French! My goodness! It is there that the 
importance of our compatriots who left home as 
workmen, and who since have become proprietors 
of stores, is ridiculous to see, — so proud to have 
money and slaves, they hardly deign to honor you 
with a pat-on-the-back bow. 

I was received on my arrival at an ex-plumber's 
and his wife's, — parvenus in the full strength of 
the term, — in a manner that was most amusing. 
The husband, a large man, wearing ear-rings, could 
not speak a word without accompanying it with a 
mistake, and did not open his mouth but to speak 
of his dollars and his slaves. As to his wife, — 
very important, too, as she called herself, — spread- 
ing herself out in her arm-chair in decollete dress, 
which showed that which she should have hidden 
with care, interrupting at every instant her party 
in playing cards to call out: "O ne'grinha" (little 
negress), "pass me my fan ! " "Oh, give me my 
snuff-box ! " " O negrinha, bring me a glass of 
water !" "Oh, pick up my handkerchief ! " and 
that handkerchief, above everything, she would 
throw down more than twenty times during the 
evening, so as to give herself the pleasure of hav- 
ing it picked up as many times by a little negress 
of seven or eight years, squatted at her feet. 



48 A PARISIAN IN BRAZIL 

When they returned to France, they brought 
with them a little negro hardly five years old. It 
was a curiosity which they exhibited. I still can 
see that poor little unfortunate squatting in the cor- 
ner of the mantel-piece, shivering in all his limbs ; 
to warm him up, his masters would make him drink 
a glassful of brandy. At the end of six months, 
with these intelligent attentions, he died, without 
ever having been able to get warmed up. 

This establishment had for friends an old clothes- 
dyer and a retired pastry-cook, who came to pass 
the evening two or three times a week ; and I had 
the good fortune of happening in on one of those 
evenings. The French which I heard spoken in 
that reunion by those four people will never leave 
my memory. As they had, during their twenty or 
thirty years' sojourn in Brazil, about unlearned the 
little French they had ever known, and knowing 
still less the language .of the country they had 
inhabited for so many years, they spoke an impos- 
sible idiom, insensible mixture of two tongues 
enamelled with such strange phrases that I 
thought I heard Chinese or Hebrew, and never 
could be persuaded that there really were four 
French people speaking to each other. You can 
imagine I never went again, although the ex- 



RIO JANEIRO. 49 



plumber's wife said, in putting one hand on her 
hip, and with the other fanning herself at full 
breeze, " I hope you have dined prettily, have n't 
you ? " and that the husband at general request 
had tuned up to a song, of which each verse 
ended invariably by the refrain, which was sung 
in chorus, of, "And by preference I am a scav- 
enger/' 

Hardly had we arrived at Rio Janeiro when we 
were asked from everywhere, — 

" Have you seen the Corcovado? " " When will 
you go to see the Corcovado?" 

We therefore must go and see the Corcovado, 
and so a day was taken for the famous ascension. 

We started at three o'clock in the morning, for 
one must avoid as much as possible the heat of the 
day. Ordinarily, fifteen or twenty people meet to 
make a party. Our little caravan was composed of 
sixteen persons, without counting the darkies who 
followed us, carrying on their heads the large cestos 
(large bamboo baskets) containing provisions. As 
for the negresses, they had the care of the children, 
who are permitted to be of all parties, and who are 
even taken to the theatre, so much confidence is 
put in the slaves to take care of them. Sometimes 
mules are taken for the children and the provisions, 



50 A PARISIAN IN BRAZIL. 

and half of the mountain is ascended on horseback 
or donkey-back. The second time that I maae tne 
excursion to the Corcovado I made it in the latter 
way, and I acknowledge that I preferred it. One 
begins the ascension by Santa Thereza Mountain ; 
half-way up you find the convent of women which 
bears this name, and which only will give shelter 
to one-and-twenty women. Turn around, then, and 
admire ! At your feet stretches off the beautiful 
bay of Rio Janeiro, with its houses of all nations, 
with its mountains so beautifully curved, with its 
green islets which seem like opening bouquets in 
the sea. 

I have often told myself that if. ever the idea of 
becoming a nun had come to me, it could only have 
been at the convent of Santa Thereza that I should 
have come to ask for peace and meditation. 

Before this grand nature our so-called civilized 
society pales indeed. There all human things 
disappear, and one can only think of God. 

Ascending, still ascending. At your right the 
aqueduct, which, from the summit of the Corco- 
vado, descends into the city to distribute this so 
famous water of the Carioca, which has given place 
to this Brazilian proverb, " Who has drunk of the 
waters of Carioca can drink no other water " ; 



RIO JANEIRO. SI 



and to this other one, " You have drunk of the 
waters of Carioca : you can live nowhere else but 
here." 

The inhabitants of Rio Janeiro have also the 
habit of saying of one of their compatriots who 
has lived in Rio, " He is a Cariocan." 

Let us still ascend. Here the large trees are be- 
ginning to appear : to begin with, the mango-tree, 
with its bushy foliage, the tamarind-tree, the bread- 
tree ; then on the plateaus, the banana-tree, with its 
substantial and savory fruit ; the cocoa-tree, the or- 
ange-tree, which tosses over you its perfumed attire; 
the coffee-tree, with its little red seeds, and leaves 
of a dark and lustrous green ; the palm tree, of 
such picturesque effect in the Brazilian landscape ; 
the lemon-trees, the cotton-trees, — what not ? All 
this crosses, entwines, entangles itself, and forms 
over your head a dome of verdure, where the 
hottest rays of the sun cannot penetrate. 

The fruits, the flowers, the grass, all invite you. 
But nature is perfidious here : beware ! Poison 
is concealed under the most beautiful flowers and 
under the most savorous fruits ; some serpent, per- 
haps, with its deadly venom, crawls under this 
beautiful turf which has its color ; a scorpion is 
there waiting to give you a wound which you will 



52 A PARISIAN IN BRAZIL. 

not forgive. Remember that you are in Brazil, and 
beware, foreigners, and climb higher ! At last we 
arrive at a place called Os Dous Irnaos (the two 
brothers), on account of two triangular stones, 
which are believed to go back to Dom Juao VI. 
Here our caravan halts. We choose a spot near 
the stream, on a fine eminence, which is explored 
with care, in the fear of objectionable company 
being found. The negroes filled the canecas (tin 
cans) with pure and sparkling water, of which 
Europeans can have no idea ; the cloth was spread 
on a mat which answered for a table, and the whole 
company then commenced a frugal and charming 
repast, seasoned with much appetite. 

The darkies formed a group apart, which was 
not the least of the tableau. 

They had soon lit a fire with some small branches, 
and over two stones placed their pot, in which 
were being warmed feijaoes (black peas), which 
they sprinkled with manioca flour; then kneading 
it all in their hands, and forming large balls, they 
commenced to throw them in their mouth with 
much dexterity. If you wish them to eat with a 
spoon, they all persist that it takes away much of 
the flavor of their feijoada. 

During the breakfast, the mucamas (housemaids) 



RIO JANEIRO. 53 



fan away over our heads, with large banana leaves, 
the flies and mosquitoes. 

The repast over, th*e climbing again begins, 
more laborious this time, for the sun was already- 
hot, and we began to feel fatigued. The trees 
become more and more dense, the convolvulus 
entwine thern, and creeping plants of all kinds are 
suspended. Finally, we arrived at the mai de agua 
(the mother source). 

There the European can get an idea of those 
beautiful virgin forests which have not been un- 
dermined by our pitiless civilization. All human 
sound has ceased, only a rustling without name 
can be heard, dominated from time to time by the 
sharp whir of the grasshopper ; there each blade 
of grass is inhabited ; each tree, each leaf, contains 
a world ; you see yourself alone, and yet you feel a 
multitude of beings stirring around you ; hardly 
can one see the top of the century-old trees that 
surround one ; it is an inextricable and grand chaos 
which seizes you ; and I was lost in ecstasy before 
this wild and gigantic nature which inspired me 
all at once with terror and admiration. 

Leaving aside the mai de agaa, one must climb 
narrow, perpendicular paths, scarcely traced, and 
finally, after five or six hours' walking, one arrives 



54 A PARISIAN IN BRAZIL. 

on the summit of the Corcovado. The most beau- 
tiful panorama then unrolls itself before your eyes. 

Still, I will admit that I was seized with more 
enthusiasm at the middle of the mountain than at 
its summit. I had imagined a little to myself the 
splendid view which would await me at such a 
height, but I had not foreseen the profound emo- 
tion I should feel at the aspect of nature coming 
virgin-like from God's hands. 

We had been staying since our arrival at Rio 
Janeiro at our uncle's ; but we wished to settle 
down by ourselves. After having travelled all 
over the city, we could not find what we wished 
but in Rosario Street. Alas ! what a street for 
Parisians accustomed to all the comfort and all the 
luxury of our capital ! The street is narrow, dull, 
and has for stores ©n the first floor of each house 
only vendees, that is to say, dull shops, where are 
piled up, mountain-like, the came secca (dried meat) 
the bacalhao (dried cod), the bags of feijoes and of 
rice, as well as the Minas cheeses. When you 
arrive in this country you are far from imagining 
that this sort of leather rolled in bundles, which 
you see piled up in this way, can be meat. This is, 
however, the principal food of the country ; and 
there is not a Brazilian who does not prefer the 






RIO JANEIRO. 55 



came secca to the came verde (green meat). 1 To 
tell you what a fearful odor emanates from this 
dried cod and meat is impossible : think that the 
street is narrow, never swept or sprinkled, that the 
sun of the tropics shines on it continuously, and 
. * r y t0 g* ve yourself an idea of the emanations 
which would arise therefrom ! 

It was there that my husband and I became ill 
with yellow fever, which dealt harshly with Brazil, 
for the first time, the year of our arrival. Until 
then the country had been very healthy. When 
this dreadful disease fell upon Rio Janeiro, it at- 
tacked first of all the foreigners, then the negroes, 
then the poor class, and finally the comfortable 
Brazilians themselves, but in small numbers. 

The mortality was so large in the city, and the 
cemeteries so filled, that one could no longer bury 
the dead. No festivals more, no disturbance more, 
no more joy : everywhere mourning. 

The theatres were closed ; large processions 
passed through the city every day, praying to God 
for the end. of the epidemic. At the head of the 
procession young girls walked dressed in white. 
When arriving at a public place, a bench would 

1 One might think green meant decayed; on the contrary, it 
means fresh. 



56 A PARISIAN IN BRAZIL. 

immediately be brought in the centre of the place, 
and upon this bench would step one of the young 
ladies, who would recite aloud the prayer, which 
all would say after her. 

Nothing more doleful than these litanies, sung 
monotonously and alone, breaking from time to 
time the dark silence which hovered over the city. 
Every morning we would hear of the death of some 
compatriot of ours. Of the twenty -eight passen- 
gers who had made the voyage with us, seventeen 
had already succumbed when I first began to feel 
this fever, of which I immediately recognized the 
symptoms. 

A homoeopathic physician had been recom- 
mended to us upon our arrivd, called Dr. Paitre, 
and we had been presented to him. My husband 
went to him immediately, but it was useless: the 
doctor himself had been taken ill, and had quickly 
left the city, away from this hearth of contagion, 
in which it was so hard to arrive at recovery. 
What to do then ? I drew out of my travelling- 
bag my case of homoeopathic medicine, given by 
Hahnemann himself before my departure, and 
searched for in the " Manuel de Jarl," which I had 
already studied, each of the symptoms of my illness. 
I began by administering to myself medicines, 



RIO JANEIRO. 57 



veratrum and ipecacuanha simultaneously. That 
same day the negress which we had hired also 
became ill, and we were obliged to send her back 
to her master. Then, after this, my husband's 
turn came, who suddenly felt himself taken with 
'chills. 

Hardly arrived here since three months, know- 
ing no one in the city, scarcely seeing the relatives 
with whom we had at first been staying, without 
physician, without servant, with very little money, 
and a child of eighteen months, which I had just 
weaned, — such was our position. My husband had 
to take to his bed, and I was treating him as I 
was treating myself. Whoever felt best would 
get up to attend to the feeding of the child, who, 
fortunately, was not overtaken with it. I had the 
happiness of saving us both, and we entered into 
convalescence. I directed it, after my own fash- 
ion, with strong bouillon, where I would throw 
in a handful of cooked sorrel ; then a little boiled 
beef and rice cooked in water would complete the 
repast. Thanks to this diet, of an excessive mod- 
eration, our stomachs became perfectly strong, and 
since, every time that the yellow fever has visited 
the country during the twelve years that we have 
inhabited it, we never again were attacked with it. 



58 A PARISIAN IN BRAZIL. 

It must be said that this sickness attacks with far 
more violence those who live in excesses, of what- 
ever nature, it may be of drink, for example, or 
even fruits. Oranges eaten in quantities have 
led more than one new arrival to the tomb. The 
Brazilians never eat an orange that they pick from 
the tree ; they pretend that in this way they give 
fever ; they must be allowed to cool, as they say, 
before they can be good. 

The yellow fever is now acclimatized in Brazil, 
as the cholera is in our countries. It appears from 
time to time in the great heat, but no longer shows 
itself so deadly as in the first year, because one 
knows how to treat it. 

One must, in the tropical countries, observe 
more moderation than anywhere else. Those who, 
having the custom of wine and liquors, wish to 
continue in Brazil the same manner of living, don't 
do so for long. 

Do as the natives do : drink water. Besides, 
the water is so good in Rio that this beverage 
is nearly a treat. Also, does the Brazilian drink 
his four or five glasses in an evening, it is so 
limpid, so perfumed, so light, this water of the 
Carioca, which winds through white pebbles, 
across aromatic plants, and comes to you fresh 



RIO JANEIRO. 59 



and full of odors, which one ever remembers, and 
which the Brazilian has a right to say, " When one 
has drunk that water, one can drink no other. " 

We had as a neighbor in Rosario Street, in the 
upper story, a Spanish senora, who had at her 
service three or four slaves. Every day the most 
terrible scenes took place over our head. For the 
least omission, for the least fault of either of them, 
the senora would beat them or give them blows 
with the palmatoria (a sort of little palette pierced 
with holes), and we would hear these poor negresses 
throw themselves on their knees, in crying, " Mercy ! 
senora ! " But the pitiless mistress would never 
be touched, and gave without pity the number of 
blows she would consider necessary to be given. 
These scenes would give me great pain. 

One day, when the blows of the chicote (whip) 
rained harder than ever, and when the screams 
were heard more heart-rending than usual, I arose 
all at once, and addressing myself to my husband, 
who, born in Brazil, of French parents, spoke Por- 
tuguese as his native language, — 

" How do you say executioner ? " I asked him. 

" Carasco" he replied, without understanding 
why I set him this question. Immediately I rush 
to the stairs, which I mount in running. I open 



60 A PARISIAN IN BRAZIL. 

the door of the senora, flinging this one word at her, 
" Carasco ! " This was my first word of Portuguese. 
That woman remained stupefied. Afterwards, hear- 
ing no noise whatever, I thought I had saved these 
unfortunate ones. Nothing of the kind : simply 
since that time she gagged them, so that their 
screams should no longer reach me. This was all 
that they had gained. This sight of slavery was, 
during the first years of my sojourn in Brazil, one 
of the torments of my life, and did not in a little 
contribute to give me homesickness, of which I 
expected to die. At every instant my heart re- 
volted or bled when I passed before one of those 
leitdos (auctions), where the poor negroes, stand- 
ing upon a table, were put up at auction, and 
examined by their teeth and their legs, like horses 
or mules ; when I saw the auction over, and that 
a young negress was being handed over to the 
fazendeiro, who would reserve her for his " intimate " 
service, while her little child was sometimes sold 
to another master. Before all these scenes of bar- 
barism my heart would rise up and generous anger 
would boil in me, and I was obliged to do me vio- 
lence in not screaming to all these men who were 
making a traffic in human flesh, " Carascos /" as I 
had flung it at my Spanish neighbor. Scarcely had 



RIO JANEIRO. 6 1 



I succeeded in pacifying myself, than I would meet 
a few steps farther a poor negro wearing a mask 
of iron. This was still the fashion in which drunk- 
enness was punished on the slave some twelve or 
fifteen years ago. Those who drank were con- 
demned to wear a mask of iron, which was on the 
back of the head by means of a chain, and which 
was only removed during meals. One cannot 
imagine the impression caused by these men with 
iron heads. It was frightful ; and think what a 
torment under this heat of the tropics ! Those 
who had run away were fastened by one leg to a 
post ; others carried around their neck a large iron 
collar, a kind of yoke, like that which is put upon 
oxen ; others, in short, were sent to the correccao 
(penitentiary), where, after they had been bound to a 
post, they would be lashed forty, fifty, or even sixty 
times. When the blood would flow they would 
stop, their wounds would be dressed with vinegar, 
and the day following it would begin again. One 
must not accuse the Emperor of Brazil for this 
state of things. He is, on the contrary, full of 
kindness, and his slaves are treated with great 
mildness ; but he had found these customs estab- 
lished in mounting upon the throne, and could not 
modify in a day these customs of the country ; he 



62 A PARISIAN IN BRAZIL. 

had to close his eyes on the slave-trade, for they 
alone were able to bear the labors of tillage under 
this burning sun. 

One had endeavored to bring colonists from all 
countries, so as to gradually substitute them for 
negroes : but the French scarcely resisted a few 
months; the English, who wished to continue their 
gin-system, would soon die of its effects ; the 
Chinese, lazy and impoverished race, would not 
give any good result ; the Germans alone had 
been able to found a little colony ; besides it was in 
the high and mountainons regions of the country, 
where the climate a little approaches ^ that of 
Europe. What to do then ? If slavery were sud- 
denly abolished, the country would be ruined. 
The Emperor found himself before all these diffi- 
culties. 

The only race fit for farming in Brazil is, with- 
out question, the native race, os Indios, os Cabo- 
clos (see engraving)^ as the Brazilians call them. 
But, hunted down as it has been, refusing to sub- 
mit, taking refuge in the depth of the forests, 
wild, flesh-eating even in some parts, one does not 
expect to be able to subjugate it so soon. As to 
the Brazilian race, a mixture of European, Ameri- 
can, and African blood, it has all the Creole 




Caboclos. 



RIO JANEIRO. 6$ 



indolence, is weak, corrupted, very intelligent, and 
not less arrogant. It is evident that it is to the 
intercourse with the negroes that is due, in a 
measure, the impoverishment of this race. The 
negresses, with their African ardors, demoralize 
the young people of Rio Janeiro and her provinces. 
There is in their blood a bitter principle which 
kills the white man. The negro's tooth even is 
frequently dangerous. I have seen more than one 
example, in Brazil, of European overseers (for 
never does a Brazilian himself strike his slave), 
who, in beating their negroes, had been bitten by 
them, or even only had been touched by their 
teeth, who w r ere obliged to have their arm ampu- 
tated. The Brazilian race could not stand hard 
labor; besides, it despises all manual labor. Not 
a Brazilian who would consent to be employed ; 
all wish to be proprietors. If, therefore, slavery 
had been suddenly abolished, farming would have 
stopped, and famine would have arisen. One had 
to gradually prepare the country and the minds 
for this grand revolution. This was what Dom 
Fedro II. did ; and when, according to him, the 
hour had come, he declared free each slave's son 
who would be born in the future. In this way, 
the negroes, happy to know their children free, 



64 A PARISIAN IN BRAZIL. 

bear their bondage with more courage ; and when 
their sons will come to earn their living in the 
country which has given them birth, it is likely 
they will remain and till the ground for them, in 
short. 

Only the large number of free negroes is a great 
black spot in the Brazilian horizon ; their number 
already surpasses that of the whites. It might be 
feared, perhaps, that when they should have counted 
their numbers, they might be taken by terrible 
revenge, and that the future would avenge the past. 
Let us hope, however, that Brazil will not have its 
San Domingo. 

That which is most appalling is the mulatto race. 
It is evident that this is the race which will be 
called some day to govern the country. It is said 
to have the virtues and defects of the two races 
from which it springs, and gives proof of a re- 
markable intelligence. It is already among the 
mulaUoes that are counted the most celebrated 
physicians of Rio, as also her most remarkable 
statesmen. 

But let us return to my travelling impressions. 
Among the things whose oddity struck me most 
upon my arrival I must speak of the processions. 
I was invited by a French merchant to come and 



RIO JANEIRO. 65 



see, to begin with, the passing of the Maunday 
Thursday procession, which is called that of the 
Corpo de Deos, and later on, that of the San Jorge. 
All the windows in town on those days were 
. adorned with curtains of red, blue, or yellow dam- 
ask, and at every window the Brazilian ladies 
showed themselves off in full dress ; that is to say, 
in a black silk dress, decollete, the neck and ears 
loaded with diamonds. Beside them were their 
children, surrounded by little mulattoes and ne- 
groes, and behind stood the amas seccas, or nurses. 

The Holy Thursday procession does not start 
until night. Sao Jose and Nossa Senhora begin 
the procession, carried each by six mulattoes or 
negroes ; then comes Jesus Christ on the cross 
between the two thieves ; and finally, Judas, who 
the following day must be burned in effigy in the 
form of a straw manikin in all parts of the city. 

Before and behind these saints walk the angels ; 
that is to say, little girls of five or six years of age, 
wearing very short skirts, all embroidered in gold, 
and as full and puffed as the hoop-skirts of our 
grandmothers. Two large wings of gauze are 
fastened on their back, and they have on their 
head a diadem of jewels. They must march, in 
leaping, to a harmonious rhythm, and take leave in 



66 A PARISIAN IN BRAZIL. 

strewing on their way rose-leaves contained in a 
little basket which they hold in their hand. On 
both sides, forming the line, file off one by one the 
Brazilians, the mulattoes, and even the free negroes, 
wearing each the dress of the secular brotherhood 
to which they belong ; that is to say, a sort of 
cape or hood of red, blue, or yellow silk, according 
to the irmandade (order), and having all in their 
hand a long burning taper. The Emperor and 
Empress always follow the Holy Thursday proces- 
sion. They stop at seven churches, in remem- 
brance of the seven stations of Christ. 

The procession of St. George is more curious 
still, on account of the manikin who represents the 
saint. It is a manikin all barbed with iron, carry- 
ing a helmet, whose visor is lowered ; he is perched 
on a lean horse, and at his sides walk two equerries, 
whose sole occupation is to restore St. George's 
equilibrium in his saddle. Nothing more grotesque 
than to see this manikin with each start of the 
horse bending presently to the right, presently to 
the left, or suddenly flattening his nose against the 
mane of his horse. One would not dare laugh. 
One should see with what respect the two equerries 
replace the great saint to his equilibrium, and how 
every one prostrates themselves before him during 



RIO JANEIRO. 67 



his passing. These procession days are the great 
festivals of the country, as also St. John's Day, 
when the Brazilian families have the custom of 
receiving, and inviting each other to a tomar hama 
chicara de cha or beber um copo de agua (take a cup 
of tea or drink a glass of water) ; it is the conse- 
crated formula to invite you to a soirie, a dance 
the most frequently. 

St. John's Day large fires are lit on all the pub- 
lic places of the city, and in these fogueiras are 
roasted batatas doces and sugar-cane, which are 
served hot, on large trays, towards the middle of 
the evening. 

All these customs are beginning to vanish at 
Rio Janeiro, but they are still observed religiously 
in the interior of the country. I have seen on these 
festival days some Brazilian ladies dance, by gen- 
eral request, the lundil (national dance), which the 
young women know nothing of at the present hour, 
and which consists of a kind of harmonious prome- 
nade, with a movement of the hips and eyes, which 
is not lacking in originality, and which ordinarily 
must be accompanied by everybody in snapping 
their fingers like castanets, so as to well keep the 
rhythm. 

The man in this dance m some sort onlv turns 



68 A PARISIAN IN BRAZIL. 

around the lady and follows her, while she gives 
herself up to all kinds of the most bewitching cat- 
like movements. 

The first time that I was invited at Rio to 
attend one of these balls, I remember while dancing 
that my eyes were carried towards the artist at the 
piano, and that I became very much impressed with 
the strange pallor overspreading his face. This 
pallor was so extraordinary that I could not refrain 
from asking if that gentleman, who might be thirty- 
five years old, was not very sick. I was told no, 
but that he had remained in this way since the 
day that he had killed his wife. 

You may judge of the effect this reply gave me. 
I wished to know on the instant all the details of 
this tragic history, and here is what I was told: 

Mr. M , one of our compatriots, had arrived 

three years ago with his wife, young and hand- 
some, who had been engaged as a singer at the 
theatre of Rio. Bouquets and letters poured each 
evening at the feet of the charming artiste, and 
among the most passionate adorers was soon 
remarked a young physician of the town, who 
had made his studies in France, and whose mind 
had taken the sneering and sceptical turn proper 
to Parisians. 



RIO JANEIRO. 69 



One day, seeing her ready to go out more 
dressed than usual, he had a suspicion that she 
was going to a rendezvous, and placing himself 
before her, said, — 

" You shall not go out!'' 

" I shall go out ! " she replied, in moving toward 
the door. 

Then the husband, drawing from his breast a 
pistol which he had concealed, levelled it at the 
young wife, and with two shots she fell lifeless at his 
feet. Then he gave himself up as prisoner. After 
having had judgment passed and absolved by the 
law, he had remained in the country, where at each 
step he would meet the man who had dishonored 
him. He had had the sad courage of killing the 
woman, and had not that of killing the man. 

All stained with his crime, carrying since, like 
an eternal stigma, that cadaverous pallor, he con- 
tinued, however, to come and play each evening 
quadrilles and polkas for the dancing of the Bra- 
zilian youth, his crime having in some way made 
him fashionable. This story froze me ; my eyes 
could not be taken from this man, who was gen- 
erally pitied, while I could find no other word in 
looking at him but this only one, " Coward ! " The 
ball soon lost for me, little by little, its joyful 



70 A PARISIAN IN BRAZIL. 

aspect; the black note was dominating, and I 
thought myself under sway of a Hoffmann tale, 
and it seemed to me as If a vampire were leading 
the dance. I began to think of that young and 
beautiful creature, killed without pity in her prime, 
and I wished to know if the lover had at least kept 
her memory. I was told that at her death he had 
shown great grief. 



LA FAZENDA. 

PART III. 

DEPARTURE FOR THE PIEDADE. — THE PAGE. — LA BOIADA. — THE 
FEITOR VENTURA. — THE PRAYER OF THE NEGROES. — THE DIS- 
TRIBUTING OF RATIONS. — THE BATUCO. — THE FEILICEIRO. — 
THE SERPENTS. — THE MULATTRESSES OF THE FAZENDA. — THE 

WIFE OF THE ADMINISTRADOR. 
* 

A CHANGE of air having been ordered me 
for a sort of slow fever of which I could not 
get rid, a Brazilian, whose acquaintance my hus- 
band had recently made, offered to take us to his 
fazenda and to stay a month, which we accepted 
most heartily, desirous as we were to visit a little 
the interior of the country, and to learn its cus- 
toms. 

The fazenda, as you doubtlessly know, is a 
plantation where particularly are cultivated rice, 
coffee, sugar-cane, feijoes, and manioca. There 
are some of these plantations which measure fifteen 
to twenty miles in length. The one to which we 
were invited was situated near a town called Mana, 
and was called the plantation of Sao Joze. To get 
there we had to begin with crossing in a steamer 



72 A PARISIAN IN BRAZIL. 

the beautiful bay of Rio, strewn with charming 
islands, among which one remarks that of the 
Governador (governor), and the other, called Pa- 
queta, which is charming with its luxuriant vegeta- 
tion, and emerges out of the midst of the sea like 
an immense bouquet of flowers. It took us three 
hours to cross the bay in all its length, and I must 
say that the passengers which we had for travel- 
ling companions were not the fine flower of first 
blossoms. The ones, fat Portuguese vendeiros (gro- 
cers), would take off their shoes, and scratch their 
feet during the trip; the others were stretched 
on the settees, half dressed, and snoring, without 
trouble about their companions ; some negroes, 
dirty and bad smelling, carrying baskets and mer- 
chandise of all kinds, encumbered the steamer, so 
that we were very well satisfied to leave this 
charming society at Piedade. That was a sorry- 
looking port at that time. Only one habitation 
could be found, — a kind of large building whose 
immense sheds were used as warehouses for the 
city's merchandise, and also that of the interior. 
There stop all the fazcndeiros, the mascatos (car- 
riers), and the tropeiros (mule-drivers). 

To all these people rooms are let whose beds 
must be occupied, I assure you ; food is also given. 



*LA FAZENDA. 73 



Under the rancho are ranged, pell-mell, mules, 
horses, sheep, and pigs. It was there that our 
saddle-beasts had to await us. I was shown to a 
room, so that I could, at my ease, put on my riding- 
habit. The filth of this place cannot be described. 
Never, do I believe, had a broom visited it ! I did 
not know where to lay the garments which I took 
off, neither those I was to put on ; the chairs 
were covered with dust, and the beds were still 
more dirty ; so that I turned around for more than 
a quarter of an hour before I could decide to dress. 
I had finally just gotten into my riding-habit when 

the Senhor P came to tell us that his page was 

awaiting us with our saddle-beasts. With that 
word " page/' my thoughts immediately pictured 
a cherubin. I pictured to myself a young and fair 
boy in silken stockings and doublet of velvet. 
But, alas ! instead of the ideal page, I beheld a 
blubber-lipped negro, with flat nose, sheep's wool 
for hair, and who had been dressed up in a large 
red livery, whose faded lace gave its history, and 
which had, without doubt, formerly figured at the 
Theatre Franqais, and successively at all the other 
theatres in Paris before coming to ornament the 
shoulders of the poor African, who wore with it 
trousers of coarse linen, and enormous silver spurs, 



74 A PARISIAN IN BRAZIL. 

which were held by a leather strap over his ugly 
bare feet. Such was the page who awaited us. I 
was taken, when I beheld him, with a desire to 
laugh outrageously, which cost me much pain to 
suppress during my whole journey. Whenever my 
eyes would be cast over his garb, I would be re- 
minded of the fantastical lucubrations of Chicard. 
His master saluted him with these words : " O sen- 
hot patifo ! " (O stupid man !) " O burro ! " (O don- 
key !) and this continued, in the same tone, during 
the whole time that he harnessed the horses. 

Finally we started, I, on horseback, at the side 
of the do ilhcstrissimo senhor fazendeiro ; then my 
husband beside my eldest son, who was hardly 
seven, and yet held himself well in the saddle. 
The route in leaving la Piedade is, to begin with, 
very unsightly, almost without vegetation for at 
leasts few miles. The horses walk in sand, which 
seems to prove that the sea formerly covered this 
part of the country. Little by little trees appear, 
and finally one skirts the virgin forest, where the 
cries of the monkeys and parrots come to remind 
you that you are in Brazil. 

We had to ascend every now and then little 
mountains with such narrow paths that, having 
met other riders, who crossed us, we were obliged, 



LA FAZENDA. 75 



to allow them to pass, to stand our horses on the 
very wall of the rock, and another time, having 
found myself, on the contrary, on the outside of the 
precipice, I will acknowledge that I had a certain 
fear, for a single movement of my horse would 
have percipitated me into the ravine. After this 
the way becomes a delight. One sees only con- 
volvulus and creeping plants encircling the large 
trees. It is a frame-work of leaves, flowers, fruits, 
more charming than all that man arranges, or, 
more correctly speaking, disarranges. I could not 
become tired of admiring it. We suffered a lit lie 
by the heat; but in Brazil there is always a breath 
of air, which revives you. When the country 
breezes have finished blowing, the sea breezes 
begin in their turn. They are called in this coun- 
try, the one the terrain and the^ other the viragdo. 
It is owing to these benevolent breezes that one 
becomes able to stand a heat of ninety degrees in 
the shade. 

With what pleasure I recall my horseback rides, 
when the wind blew through my hair and sent me 
the perfume of magnolias and orange blossoms ! 
I acknowledge that nature gave me grand pleas- 
ures in Brazil, and it was always with an immense 
feeling of happiness that I found myself on horse- 
back galloping in the midst of this wild country. 



j6 A PARISIAN IN BRAZIL. 

After three hours of travel, we had arrived at 
the fazenda Sao Joze. It was six o'clock in the 
evening, and the sun was beginning to set. The 
cattle were returning from all parts, led by the 
shepherds, and had grouped themselves near the 
stiles which surrounded the habitation, waiting 
to have them opened. To enter, we should be 
obliged to pass through la boiada, which is to say, 
a herd of a hundred oxen, cows, and bulls, which 
were in our way. At the sight of those threaten- 
ing horns, I declared to my host that I did not feel 
the courage to advance. He smilingly reassured 
me, and told me to follow him without fear. .Follow 
him I did, but without fear I would not affirm. 
All those beasts vied in bellowing around us ; but 

the Senhor P assured me those were only 

demonstrations of joy at the return of our horses, 
their companions. He called the shepherd, a little 
mulatto of about eleven years, and whose dress 
consisted of a large linen bag held around his hips 
by a cord, and raised in front like a pair of under- 
drawers. The boy called his beasts, and we could 
at last pass through the boiada^ not without heart- 
beating on my part. I could never get myself 
habituated to this thing. Each time in coming or 
going that I found myself in the midst of all these 



LA FAZENDA.. *]*] 



horned beasts, there was always a certain emotion 
(enough cause, besides) ; for, one day when we 
were about to start, a furious bull sprung toward 
the horse on which my son was seated. I uttered 
a cry, and the herder, who fortunately was near, 
immediately threw the lasso over the neck of the 
beast, which stopped short and fell on its knees. 

Nothing more curious than to see the negroes 
throw the lasso ; it is done with such dexterity 
that one is stupefied. It is in this manner that 
one takes in the meadows the horses or mules 
that one wishes to ride ; and when, having re- 
turned, after having given them a handful of oats, 
the saddle is removed, they return to the pasture 
without giving them further care until the day 
that one requires their service again. They receive 
no rations but on the day when they are ridden. 
The Sao ]oz6 fazenda had only twenty-five negroes 
and negresses to do the plantation work. Hardly 
had we stepped in when we were led to our rooms, 
where a bath a la cachaqa (molasses brandy) was 
awaiting us, destined for regaining our strength. 
The fazendeiro, upon arriving, had completely 
changed face ; his countenance, usually so amiable 
during the whole trip, had suddenly become severe 
and hard ; he hardly said, " How do you do ! " to 



78 A PARISIAN IN BRAZIL. 

a Frenchwoman who was his housekeeper, and 
scarcely answered the slaves of the plantation, 
who pressed around him to ask for his benediction 
or blessing. Our bath taken, the bell rang for 
dinner, and we then appeared in the dining-room, 
with its old, blackened walls, opening on an inner 
court, dirty enough. This room, long and narrow, 
had for furniture nothing but a large square table, 
around which wooden benches were ranged. On 
the table was seen the traditional feijoada, dishes 
filled with manioca, a large platter of rice, and two 
chickens, as well as bananas and oranges. This is 
about the usual Brazilian dinner to be found in the 
interior, where fresh meat is a rare thing. 

We had brought from the city white bread for 
two or three days, after which we had therefore to 
do without it until the following Saturday, when a 
negro was sent on horseback to a little neighbor- 
ing place called Santo Aleixo, which possessed a 
baker who kindly baked once a week. 

Dinner over, the host called his feiior (foreman), 
an old negro called Ventura, whom I yet can see 
with his good face, honest and grave. He came 
escorted by two other large darkies, who were his 
aids ; all three had for clothing nothing but a coarse 
linen shirt, worn over their trousers, made of sail- 



LA FAZENDA. 79 



cloth. Over their shoulders were thrown some 
sort of tatters, which, in by-gone days, might have 
been coats or overcoats. In one hand they rolled 
their hats of coarse straw, while the other was 
ornamented by a long, stout stick, and Ventura 
held the chicote (whip), insignia of his command. 
Besides, each one carried an immense cutlass 
(a kind of little sword), with which the slaves help 
themselves to cut sugar-cane, or make their way 
through the woods. They placed themselves, all 
three, standing before their master, in an angle of 
the room, which was scarcely lit up by two candles 
burning in glass panes placed on the large silver 
chandelier. This scene has remained present in 
my memory in its minutest details, for to a Paris- 
ienne it did not lack strangeness. 

These are the questions which were set by the 
master, in a short and hard tone, and the answers 
of the slaves, pronounced in a humble and fright- 
ened manner : — 

" What has been planted this week ? " 

" Rice, senhor." 

" Begun to cut the sugar-cane ? " 

"Yes, master; but the rio" (the river) "has 
overflowed, and we must repair the canals/' 

" Send twenty negroes over there to-morrow 
morning. What more ? " 



80 A PARISIAN IN BRAZIL. 

"Henriques has escaped." 

"The cachorro" (the dog)! "Has he been 
caught ? " 

"Sim" (yes), " senhor, he is in the tronco" (in 
irons). 

"Give him twenty blows with the lash, and put 
the iron collar around his neck." 

"Yes, senhor. A troop of porcas do mato" (wild 
boars) " are ravaging all the batatas plantation, and 
a jaguar has been seen yesterday near the torrent : 
we ought to have guns." 

"You shall have three this evening. Is this 
all ? " 

"Yes, senhor." 

" Lengenho" (mill in which the manioca flour and 
sugar are made) " is to begin to work to-morrow : 
is it in condition ? " 

"Yes, senhor." 

"Very well. Call the negroes now for prayer." 

We then all proceeded to the parlor, room ordi- 
narily placed in the middle of the house, lighted 
only by three large doors leading on to the ve- 
randa, which is in some way the real drawing-room 
of the hot countries. 

The master rang a heavy bell, then called, in a 
formidable voice, " Salta para a resa!" (Hurry up 
for prayer.) 




Mulatress of the 'Fagenda.' 



LA FAZENDA. 8 1 



Night had almost come. Oxen and horses were 
sleeping in the meadows. Before the house, and 
all around it, ranged in circle, were the sauzales 
(negro cabins), to the number of seventy about. 

At the master's call, one saw rising up out of 
the dusk these sort of phantoms ; each one came put 
of their cabin, a sort of hut made of clay and mud, 
with dried banana leaves for roofing, gloomy abode, 
where the water penetrates when it rains, where 
the wind blows from everywhere, and from where 
a most dreadful smoke arises at the hour when the 
negro gets his supper, for the cabin has neither 
chimney nor window, so that the fire is made with 
a fagot, oftentimes green, which is lighted in the 
centre of the cabin. 

The negroes cross the meadow and ascend one 
by one the two flights of stairs to the veranda, 
where a sort of cupboard had been opened, form- 
ing an altar in one of the corners. Here it was 
that the miseries of slavery appeared to me in all 
their horror and hideousness. Negresses covered 
in rags, others half naked, having as covering only 
a handkerchief fastened behind their back and 
over their bosoms, which scarcely veiled their 
throats, and a calico skirt, through whose rents 
could be seen their poor, scraggy bodies ; some 



82 A PARISIAN IN BRAZIL. 

negroes, with tawny or besotted looks, came and 
kneeled down on the marble slabs of the veranda. 
The majority ^carried on their shoulders the marks 
of scars which the lash had inflicted ; several were 
affected with horrible maladies, such as elephantia- 
sis, or leprosy. All this was dirty, repulsive, hid- 
eous. Fear or hate, that is what could be read on 
all these faces, which I never have seen smile. 

Four candles were lighted, and the two subor- 
dinate overseers placed themselves on the steps of 
the altar, where the Christ appeared, in the centre 
of four vases. These two negroes officiated after 
their own fashion ; they had retained a smattering 
of Latin, which a chaplain, formerly at the planta- 
tion, had taught them, and then added their own 
most picturesquely, which served as a beginning 
to the litany of saints. After the Kyrie eleison 
they begin to sing in unison, Santa Maria, mai de 
Deos, ora pi'o nobis ! Then all the saints in para- 
dise followed, to whom they thought fit to add 
this, Santa Pk de cana, ora pro nobis ! (Holy Foot, 
made of sugar-cane, pray for us!) Finally their 
singing ended with this heart-rending cry, which 
they all gave, prostrating themselves, their faces 
on the ground, Miserere nobis ! This cry touched 
me to the inmost recesses of my heart, and tears 



LA FAZENDA. 83 



streamed silently from my eyes, while, after the 
devotions, the negroes filed past us one by one in 
asking our benediction, to which each white per- 
son must reply, " I bless thee." 

Prayers were held every Saturday evening. I 
could never listen to it without remaining pro- 
foundly impressed. The aspect of these miseries 
and these sufferings, and that cry of despair, 
which seemed to me to rise way up to God, — all 
this was striking, and of a horrible beauty, even 
from the artistic point of view. 

The following day scenes not less sad awaited 
me. Having been awakened at four o'clock in the 
morning by the great bell in the veranda, which 
the feitor was ringing for the rising up of the 
negroes, I wished to witness these proceedings, 
and jumped out of my bed. 

Day was scarcely dawning in the horizon, a 
soft and melancholy color was enveloping the land- 
scape. From the summit of the mountain, in the 
rear of the fazenda, a beautiful cascade was un- 
rolling its sheets of silvery water, and this moun- 
tain was covered with wild woods, where fruits 
and flowers interlaced each other in charming 
confusion. 

From the other side, in front of the house, 



84 A PARISIAN IN BRAZIL. 

immense pastures could be seen, where more than 
a hundred head of cattle were collected. The oxen 
were still sleeping. 

Some of the negroes began to come out of their 
cabins. If one of them was late in appearing, old 
Ventura would shake his big whip in crying out, 
"O Patife! fiuxa parafora ! " (O good-for-nothing, 
get out ! ) 

Then three gangs, each of about twenty-five 
negroes and negresses, were formed : one was under 
the direction of Ventura, and took the way to the 
matto (woods) ; the second proceeded to the plan- 
tations with one of the subordinate superintend- 
ents ; and the third drove immense wagons with 
wheels of solid wood, yoked by four oxen, and was 
getting ready to cut the sugar-cane, which the 
wagons were to carry back. One of the little 
shepherds in his turn collected all the oxen, the 
second followed him with a flock of sheep ; the 
field gates were opened, and all this human live 
stock started with the rest for work. 

Four dairy cows alone were left for the needs of 
the house, and at six o'clock we were served to a 
bowl of milk, the like of which I have never 
drunk anywhere, on account of the exquisite per- 
fume which is given it by the Indian pears, pitan- 



LA FAZENDA. 85 



gaSy mangoes, and above all the aromatic plants of 
which the cows are very fond, and with which 
they feed themselves in the woods. This is what 
our animals know nothing of. When, sometimes, 
they are let loose in our pastures, hardly can they 
find a bit of grass ; while nothing is funnier to see 
in Brazil than a cow plucking fruit from the tree 
whose branches she bends. Many a time while 
out horseback riding have we met them in this 
occupation, while the mares and colts in freedom 
were chasing each other through the fields, execut- 
ing the most graceful of leaps. 

The moleque (darky) who enjoys the best health 
at the fazenda is, without question, the vaqiteiro 
(cow-keeper), because he does not forget himself, 
and milks the cows for his proper benefit far from 
the eye of his master. It has also happened 
sometimes that with four cows there would hardly 
be the necessary milk for the house, the negroes 
awarding themselves a little too much, and the 
cow-keeper would be punished ; yet when one 
would see the food given these poor unfortunates, 
one could not blame them for trying to make up. 

At nine o'clock the bell would ring again ; it 
was rung for the negroes' breakfast, and I had the 
curiosity to be present at the distribution of the 



86 A PARISIAN IN BRAZIL. 

rations. There are always two cooks at a planta- 
tion, — one for the whites and one for the blacks, 

— and there are even two kitchens. I repaired to 
the large smoky room which served for the darkies' 
kitchen, and there I saw two negresses having 
before them two immense caldrons, one of them 
containing feijoes and the other angu (a dough 
made of manioca flour and boiling water). Each 
slave soon arrived, gourd in hand. The cook would 
pour in a large ladleful of* feijoes, adding a little 
piece of came secca of the poorest quality, as also 
a little manioca flour sprinkled over all ; the other 
one distributed the angu to the old men and* chil- 
dren. The poor slaves would leave with this, 
murmuring in a low tone that the meat was rotten, 
and that there was not enough. 

Our dogs would certainly not have eaten such 
food. The little darkies of three or four years, 
entirely naked, were returning with their rations 
of feijoes, which their delicate stomachs could 
hardly digest ; also did they nearly all have large 
stomachs, enormous heads, and lank arms and legs, 

— in short, all the signs of the rickets. It caused 
pity to see them ; and I never understood, from a 
speculative stand-point even, that these merchants 
of human flesh did not take better care of their 



LA FAZEXDA. 87 



merchandise. Happily I was assured that it was 
not thus everywhere, and that in several planta- 
tions the slaves were very well treated, I wish to 
believe it ; for myself, I tell what I have seen. 

One day while I was out walking a little far out 
in the plantations, I was accosted by a very young 
negress who came to ask me to intercede for her 
to her master, so that she might be freed of the 
chain she was carrying. In saying this, she lifted 
up her coarse linen skirt, and. showed me a ring 
riveted around her ankle, to which was attached a 
heavy chain carried from her waist. Here is the 
conversation I had with her, I immediately wrote 
down textually : — 

"I am very willing," said I to the poor slave, 
"to ask your pardon, but what bad action have 
you committed to have deserved this punishment ? 
Did you steal ?" 

" No, senhora, I fled." 

" And why did you flee ? " 

"Because the slave must flee from slavery al- 
ways." 

"And if your chain is taken from you, then you 
will flee again ? " 

"No; because I see that the white man is al- 
ways stronger than we are, and that I would again 



A PARISIAN IN BRAZIL. 



be caught and martyrized. This chain breaks me 
down." 

" Then you promise me that if I obtain your par- 
don, you will never attempt to fly?" 

" I promise it," replied the poor African woman, 
in a low tone. 

" How old are you ? " 

"I do not know." 

"What ! more or less, you do not know how old 
you are ? " 

" No." 

" Is it long since you were brought to Brazil ? " 

"Sugar-cane has been cut five times since .then." 

" Do you remember your country ? " 

"Always!" she replied, with a wild and passion- 
ate accent. 

" You did not work in your native land ? " 

" No ; when I had pounded the rice for the 
repasts, I danced and sang the rest of the day." 

"Do you remember the dances of your coun- 
try?" 

" Do I remember them ? Every night, after the 
superintendents sleep, we get up and dance our 
dances till morning." 

"And if some one bought you, to give you your 
liberty, you would return to Africa ? " 



LA FAZENDA. 89 



" Yes, if I can find the way, for one must cross 
much water to get there.'' 

" Have hope, my child: you will have better 
days." 

I came home that day feeling sad, and did not 
have much trouble in obtaining the pardon of the 
young negress; for a Brazilian never refuses a 
pardon asked for a slave, especially if it is asked 
by a woman, and that woman happens to be the 
madrinha (godmother) of one of his children ; the 
title of godfather and godmother being nearly a 
tie of relationship in Brazil. Also, when I took 
leave to make a year's travel in France, Senhor 

P , who accompanied us to the steamer, asked 

me what he could do to make himself agreeable to 
his comadre. 

" Not to beat your slaves any more," I answered 
him. 

He promised it to me, and during a year reli- 
giously kept his promise ; only he begged me, 
upon my return, never to ask him such a thing 
again, because his slaves would be lost forever- 
more. 

Among all my horseback rides through the in- 
terior of the country one has remained engravened 
in my memory. Our friend, the fazendeiro, P- , 



gO A PARISIAN IN BRAZIL. 

wished to take us one day to a cotton mill which 
an American from the North had just established 
in a little place called Santo Aleixo, hardly six 
miles distant from the Sao Joze plantation. This 
was a complete novelty for the Brazilians to see a 
factory in their country. As for me, the factory 
did not interest me, but the excursion through the 
woods enchanted me. 

We started at eight o'clock in the morning, I 
mounting the horse of the senhora, as the horse 
was called, and which had but a slight defect, that 
of freeing himself of her who mounted him, when 
he felt a woman's long skirt on his side, so that 
when he was passing near a ravine he would make 
a little side movement, in the intention of throwing 
his rider, if she was not firm in the saddle. Know- 
ing he had this little trick, I was in the habit of 
holding him strongly in check during these deli- 
cate occasions; seeing this, he lost, day by day, 
his roguish idea, and we were the best friends 
in the world. My husband mounted a large red 
horse, called the horse of the cidade (of the city). 
Why? I ignore it. This horse had such a hard 
trot that he was never given to a woman. As to 
the proprietor, he always had his gray mule, on 
which he seemed to sit as in his arm-chair. Hold- 



LA FAZENDA. 91 



ing in his right hand a large umbrella to shield 
him from the sun, he scarcely deigned to hold the 
reins. Finally, my son came riding a little pony, 
which had been given him, sitting more solidly in 
his saddle than any of us, and enduring six hours' 
riding without flinching. 

To begin with, we had to cross a wood where 
myriads of birds flew off at our approach, and 
where the monkeys' sharp cries were heard. How 
enchanting was this road. The Senhor P sud- 
denly called to me, however, — 

" Stop your horse : a serpent crosses the road ! " 

In reality we saw a little serpent of changeable 
red color, which was warming itself in the sun, and 
disappeared at the sound of our approach. 

"He hasn't a very wicked look, your little ser- 
pent," I said to our host. 

"It is the coral serpent," he replied: "one of 
those whose sting is most dangerous." 

We continued our way, and finally arrived before 
a little river. 

" We are going to cross it," said our host. 

" How ? " I replied : " I don't see any bridge." 

"Why, simply on our horses: gather up well 
your riding-skirt, lift your left limb over your sad- 
dle in tailor-fashion, give the reins to your horse, 



92 A PARISIAN IN BRAZIL. 

— don't be frightened, — and follow my mule, who 
will find her way." 

It was done in this manner : our horses began 
to get into the water up to their bodies, then to 
their chests, and finally, in a moment, they lost 
their footing and swam a few seconds with their 
riders on their back. 

I was not greatly reassured. The horses, to cut 
the current at a certain part where it was very 
rapid, were always going sideways, and it seemed 
to me as if the opposite shore was disappearing, 
instead of getting nearer to us. 

This lasted about six minutes at the most, yet 
it seemed long to me ; but I have kept a charming 
souvenir of it, — this little river, bordered by plants 
and trees of all kinds, with its limpid and flowing 
water, that sky so beautifully blue, and the warm 
sun over our heads, in the midst of all this, our 
little caravan crossing the rio on horseback. I 
see it all again, and am happy to have passed 
through these little experiences and contemplated 
such splendid landscapes. 

Senhor P having begged us (my husband 

and I) to be godfather and godmother of his last 
child, this gave place — after the ceremony of bap- 
tism, which was held by a chaplain of the neigh- 



LA FAZENDA. 93 



borhood — to one of the strangest feasts, which I 
will endeavor to describe. 

We desired that the poor slaves should have 
their share in the day's festivities, and their master 
permitted us to treat them to a small keg of 
cackaga, authorizing them after this, at my request, 
to dance in the evening on the meadow. 

It was a day of intermission of their labors. I 
will allow you to think whether they were happy 
and came to thank us. 

The overseer then made the distribution of the 
cachaga, giving each one but a small glass at a 
time, and then the batnco (negro's dance, accom- 
panied with the clapping of hands) began. I wish 
I could give my readers an idea of this strange 
scene and of this wild dance. Let me try. 

Large fires had been lit in the middle of the 
meadow. A negro of high stature, formerly king 
in his native country, soon appeared, armed with a 
long white wand, — sign apparent, to them, of his 
command. His head was ornamented with feath- 
ers of all colors, and little bells were fastened 
around his legs. Every one bowed himself down 
before him with respect, while he gravely walked 
about, dressed in this manner, filled with a supreme 
majesty. Near the king stood the two musicians 



94 A PARISIAN IN BRAZIL. 

who were to lead the batnco ; one carried a kind of 
immense calabash, which contained six or seven of 
different sizes, over which were placed a very thin 
little board. With the aid of little sticks, which 
he manoeuvred with great dexterity, the negro ob- 
tained dull sounds, the monotony of which seemed 
sooner to provoke sleep than anything else. The 
second musician, squatted on his heels, had before 
him a piece of the hollow trunk of a tree, over 
which a dried lambskin was stretched. He was 
beating in a melancholy way on this primitive 
drum to re-enforce the singing. Three or four 
groups of dancers soon came to place themselves 
in the centre of the circle, which was formed by 
all their companions. The negresses walked har- 
moniously, keeping time in waving their handker- 
chiefs and in giving themselves up to a most 
accentuated movement of the hips, while their dark 
partners were turning around them, skipping upon 
one foot with the most grotesque contortions, and 
the old musician was walking from one group to 
another, speaking and singing, while shaking his 
sticks with frenzy. He seemed, by his expressions, 
desirous of exciting them for the dance, while the 
assistants accompanied the batuco with clapping of 
hands, which accentuated the rhythm in a strange 



LA FAZENDA. 95 



manner, and the king was promenading in a grave 
manner while shaking his bells. 

The negroes were dripping, and yet the musi- 
cians did not cease running from one to the other 
and exciting them still more. The dance had 
arrived at such a degree of strange over-excite- 
ment, when suddenly calling was heard from the 
house: " Feitor y let all fires be extinguished, that 
all noise ceases, and that all the negroes return to 
their cabins ! ' 

There was some murmuring among the poor 
slaves, but the overseer, armed with his whip and 
followed by his two assistants, soon restored order 
everywhere. 

Not knowing to what to attribute this sudden 
disturbance in the festival, I hastily ascended' to 
the house, where I found the proprietor perfectly 
pale, and having barricaded windows and doors 
around him. He seemed to me laboring under a 
certain excitement, whose cause I asked him. 

He then told me that, while his comrades were 
dancing, a negro had entered the house, with 
drunken face, and vociferating threats against his 
master, who immediately had him laid hold of, 
but who had understood that if his negroes became 
more excited by the cachaqa and their national 
dance, his life might be in danger. 



C y G A PARISIAN IN BRAZIL. 

We were, in the number of whites, at the house, 
only Senhor P — — , my husband, I, and a sort of 
housekeeper, who held the middle place between 
hostess and servant. What could we have done 
against one hundred and twenty infuriated negroes ? 
I, a young wife without any experience then, who 
had the conscience of never having done but good to 
these unfortunates, did not understand the danger, 
and could not help myself laughing at the fright- 
ened face of the proprietor. Later on, in reflect- 
ing, I found his terror justified. 

These national dances excite to such a degree 
these poor slaves, that they have been prohibited 
to them in the city. In spite of all this, however, 
they take place. At the risk of being cruelly 
beaten, the negroes go at night, when the whites 
are asleep, to dance on the beach in the moonlight. 
They assemble in groups of the same nationality, 
either Congo, Mozambique, or Minas ; then, in 
dancing and singing, they forget their ills and 
servitude, and only remember their native country 
and the time that they were free. 

Sometimes it has happened to me, having need 
of the services of my mitcama (lady's maid) in the 
night, to search for her in vain all over the house : 
she had gone to rejoin her brethren at the dance. 



LA FAZEXDA. 97 



Our doors, however, had been carefully locked. 
Little did it concern her : she passed through the 
window. 

One of the strangest types on the plantation, 
assuredly, was the feiticeiro (sorcerer). This is 
how I made his acquaintance : I was sitting one 
morning in the veranda, lost in that region of 
thought which vast horizons plunge you into, when 
I saw returning from the wood one of the wagons 
which usually did not come back until the decline 
of day. I was yet more surprised that it had for 
its only load two negroes, one of whom was the 
overseer. 

"O Ventura! " immediately called our host to 
him, "why do you return with Luiz?" 

" Senhor, Luiz has been bitten by a serpent 
while cutting sugar-cane, and is vomiting blood." 

" Has the sorcerer been called ? " 

" Yes, senhor : there he comes." 

In effect, we soon saw a negro of very high 
stature appear, with frizzled white hair, who, it was 
said, was more than ninety years old, but who, 
however, still held himself firmly and straight. He 
was draped in a striped covering, carried a sort of 
hanging wallet at his side, and held a stick in his 
hand. His face was grave and pensive. 



98 A PARISIAN IN BRAZIL. 

He went straight to the infirmary, where the 
sick negro had been put, closeted himself with 
him, made him drink a preparation of herbs of 
which he alone had the secret, and affirmed that 
he would cure the negro, on condition, neverthe- 
less, that no woman must be allowed to enter the 
room of him whom he nursed, for seven days. 
Without this, he would not be responsible for him, 
he said ; therefore, one was careful to send the 
negro's food only by men. The prescriptions of 
the sorcerer were carried out to the letter, and the 
negro was completely cured. Thereupon I wished 
to talk with the old sorcerer ; and after having given 
him a few pennies for coffee and sugar, I asked him 
what were the plants he had made use of to cure 
the sting of the jararaca> one of the most danger- 
ous serpents of Brazil. 

" It is my secret," he said. 

" Why don't you give it to the others ? " 

"I nurse them when they are ill : it is enough." 

" But when you die ? " 

" All the worse for them. If they were good to 
me, I would gladly tell them the secrets I know ; 
but they shun me, and teach their children to be 
afraid of me. I will take my secrets with me." 

This was all that I could get He was still 



LA FAZENDA. 99 



called another time, for an ox who had bicharia 
(a bag full of worms). 

The sorcerer approached the ox, which was lying 
down, applied to him, without doubt, also, some 
•pulverized plant on the sick spot : the bag of worms 
fell almost instantly, and the animal was cured. 

There was not a negro of the fazenda then who 
did not repeat that the sorcerer had only need to 
recite a few magical words, and immediately after 
the cure had been made. 

The old negro had been right : in return for his 
science he reaped only ingratitude and abandon- 
ment ; all shunned him, in almost crossing them- 
selves, and the little mulattoes pressed against each 
other when he passed, whispering in each other's 
ears, " Toma sentido! O feiticeiro!" (Take care: 
there goes the sorcerer ! ) 

As for me, it was always with pleasure that I 
conversed with him, and I regret sincerely to-day 
that I did not write down these original conversa- 
tions, so simple and so instructive all at once ; for 
the old darky, who had seen the reign of Dom 
Joan VI., knew many things, although he had not 
learned to read and to write. It was in the grand 
book of nature that he had studied. What became; 
of him ? 



IOO A PARISIAN IN BRAZIL. 

He has died, without doubt all alone, in a corner 
of the forest, taking with him all the science so 
laboriously gathered in eighty-six years of exist- 
ence. 

Speaking of serpents also reminds me of an 
adventure which was the talk of Rio at this time. 

One of the richest stock brokers of the country 
one day told at the stock exchange what had just 
happened to him. 

For some time his little three-year-old daughter, 
who slept in the room next her parents, would 
wake up during the night in crying, and when she 
would be questioned as to the cause of her .tears 
would cry, "O bicho! O bicho ! " (the animal.) One 
thought of nightmares ; but the child grew pale, 
and would say from time to time, " O biclios frio ! 
frio!" Finally they became alarmed at the child's 
persistence in speaking of the bicho> so one night 
the father, armed with a pistol, placed himself 
upon duty, without light, near the child's bed. 
Towards midnight the little one began to move, 
and the father then perceived a serpent of the most 
dangerous kind lying next his child. He was 
careful not to frighten it, else it would sting the 
little one. The father rapidly carried off the child, 
and almost immediately killed the serpent. Since 



LA FAZENDA. IOl 



then the child has regained its bright color, and no 
longer says, " The beast is cold ! " 

When four years later, I returned for the second 
time to the Sao Joze plantation, this time with- 
out the escort of our host, and starting with 
our two children, Paul and Maurice, the elder 
being twelve years old, and the younger scarcely 
sixteen months old, whom I still was nursing, 
we carried him, each in turn, in our saddles, my 
husband and I ; and most frequently it was our 
mulatto Fernando (one of the most successful types, 
who played the guitar, and perfumed himself from 
head to feet with cologne when called for my ser- 
vice) who carried him on his shoulders, in follow- 
ing on foot On this account we journeyed very 
slowly; and when the day was beginning to de- 
cline, the page declared to us that we were still 
three hours distant from the plantation, and that 
we must cross, to get there, a kind of swamp, most 
dangerous at night. 

Then I thought of the serpents, of the oncas, 
and became frightened to find myself journeying 
at night with my two children. I told my husband 
that I thought it imprudent to continue our journey 
under such conditions, and as for me I was decided 
to stop in a rancho (a kind of shelter with a roof, 



io2 A Parisian in Brazil, 

with a manger for animals) sooner than to expose 
my sons to so many dangers. The page then told 
me that in going a little out of our way we would 
come within a half-hour to a plantation where we 
probably could pass the night, I accepted this 
suggestion with eagerness. 

We quickened our pace, and in a very short time 
indeed we reached the plantation of the vis-condessa 

de P G . It was time, for obscurity was 

enveloping us from everywhere. 

Having arrived at the entrance of the plantation, 
we asked to see the superintendent, who was a 
white man, who really sooner was called the ad- 
minis trador. 

He soon arrived, and we told him of our em- 
barrassment, in asking for hospitality for the night. 
He eagerly accorded it to us in the name of his 
masters, who for years had not inhabited their 
fazenda. We therefore alighted, after having 
thanked him heartily. He then gave orders to 
have the guest chamber put in order for us, where 
I finally had the joy of seeing my two sons asleep, 
each in a separate bed, instead of being exposed 
in the forest to all kinds of dangers. 

The senhor adminis trador, who had a smattering 
of knowledge, was charmed to see strangers who 



LA fazendA. 103 



brought him news from the city, came and con- 
versed with us while we ate our travelling sup- 
plies ; then, towards eleven o'clock, he left us. 

I had asked the negress who had attended to 
my room if she could get me a night-lamp. This 
was an unknown thing at the plantation, where oil 
for lighting had never entered. That which was 
brought me in its stead was a kind of rosin taper, 
the smoke of which would have suffocated us if we 
had not left all the inner doors of the apartment 
wide open. This taper, disagreeable as it was, 
however, did me great service, for hardly had I 
gotten in bed, worn out with fatigue, when I heard 
a little moving about the room. " They are mice," 
said I to myself ; " in frightening them a little, 
they '11 go away." So I knocked against the bed 
and the wall, hoping thus to get rid of them. Ah ! 
well, yes ! The moment I laid my head upon my 
pillow the noise increased, and I '11 let you imagine 
what became of me when I saw, instead of mice, 
enormous rats (about the size of small cats), orna- 
mented with long mustaches, which were crossing 
the room in gangs of eight or ten, to nibble the 
leavings of our supper. 

I awakened my husband, to tell him of my fright. 

" What do you want ? " he replied, half asleep. 



104 -A- Parisian in brazil. 

"This room has not been occupied for a long 
time, and the chicken and pate have attracted all 
the rats of the place over here." 

" What to do about it ? Try not to think about 
it, and get asleep. ,, 

Get myself asleep in the midst of these horrid 
creatures ! I did n't even think of it. I was afraid 
they 'd get into our beds and bite my children ; so 
I passed th^e whole night sitting up in my bed, 
knocking to frighten them away every time when I 
would see them coming towards us. 

That was the manner in which I rested after a 
day of great fatigue. 

It was not until the dawn of day that they kindly 
left, and scarcely allowed me an hour's rest, for at 
five o'clock we were all up, so as to avoid the great 
heat. 

I had noticed, the evening before, a young 
woman, white, or rather yellow, with large eyes 
darkly circled, badly combed hair, who walked bare- 
footed, dressed in a miserable skirt, and a child at one 
hand, another in arms, and I had suspected that it 
might well be the wife of the administrador, who, 
however, had himself fine linen, a proper suit of 
clothes, and a certain varnish of books and science. 

I had communicated my suspicions to my hus- 



LA FAZENDA. 10$ 



band, who, like all the husbands in the world, did 
not give it credence, and had even plagued me of 
that mania all women have, of seeing romances 
and dramas in everything. 

Well, before leaving I wished to have a clear 
conscience about it. I asked for some bowls of 
milk, and it was this woman, accompanied by the 
two children, who served them to us. I resolved 
thereupon to satisfy my curiosity ; and while my 
children were eating and our horses were being 
saddled, noticing on her face the traces of great 
suffering, " You seem sad, madam," I said to 
her. 

" I am very unhappy, senhora," she replied. 

"Are you not the wife of the administrador ? " 

"To my sorrow.'' 

"How?" 

" He treats me badly. Those are his mulat- 
tresses," she continued, in pointing towards one, 
"who are the real senhoras of the plantation; for 
them my husband overwhelms me with outrages." 

" How can you live with him? Leave him." 

She looked at me in utter astonishment. 

"Leave my husband!" she uttered. "And by 
what should I live ? " 

"You will work." 



I06 A PARISIAN IN BRAZIL. 

" I do not know how to earn money ; and my 
children ? " 

" The father will be obliged to bring them up ; 
but you can leave them no longer with such a sight 
under their eyes : a mother cannot allow herself 
to be outraged before her children. If they are to 
respect you, make yourself respected." 

The poor woman listened to me with all ears, try- 
ing to understand, and opening wide her large eyes. 

" That 's all very well for you Frenchwomen, 
who know how to earn your bread," she finally 
said ; " but we, to whom nothing has been taught, 
we are obliged to be the servants of our husbands." 

" Well, do what you like ; but when you will 
have suffered enough, and find yourself at the end 
of your strength, remember the Frenchwoman 
who passed a night at the plantation, and come to 
her : she will give you the means of living by your 
work. Here is my address." 

Thereupon I jumped into the saddle. The wife 
of the superintendent thanked me by look, and 
accompanied me to the gate of the plantation ; 
she remained there, looking after me fixedly as 
long as she could see something of me. 

I could well see that I had enlightened this soul, 
and opened new longings before her. 



LA fazendA. iof 



Daybreak was appearing and began to lighten 
a little the dark foliage of the woods ; nature awa- 
kened, still enveloped in the mist, and the dew was 
sprinkled over the ground. The senhor adminis- 
trador came to give us his adieus, in wishing us 
God-speed. I involuntarily looked back. After 
what I knew, he gave me the horrors. 

When we arrived on the borders of the faztftda, 
we found the mulattresses of the day before look- 
ing haughty and cynical, who wished to see in 
broad daylight the French lady and her husband. 

They gave me, for a last adieu, a look full of 
hate, yet bowing all the same when I passed ; and 
I, from my side, acknowledged it by an easy bow, 
into which I put all the disdain and disgust which 
they inspired. 

Then, taking a little gallop, we started towards 
the Sao Joze plantation, at which we arrived two 
hours later. 

Three months later, my door-bell rang. It was 
the Senhora Maria, the wife of the administrador, 
who came, with one of her children on her arm, 
asking me to fulfil the promise I had made her ; so 
I took her into my home as house-keeper, to over- 
look the negro servants, and to take charge of the 
household linen. 



I08 A PARISIAN IN BRAZIL. 



To say that in the end she repaid me with the 
most profound ingratitude teaches nothing new to 
my readers. What matters it ? My end had been 
gained : I had developed in her soul the sentiment 
of human dignity, and had taught her how to earn 
her daily bread ; I had raised her up morally, and 
cured her physically. The Senhora Maria has 
never been able to forget me, this I am sure of. 



AMONG THE PEOPLE. 

• PART IV. 

OUR CONSUL AND OUR MINISTER AT RIO JANEIRO. — HOW THE 
FRENCH LADIES ARE CONSIDERED. — ECCENTRIC MERCHAN- 
DISE. — A CONSCIENTIOUS COMMERCIAL FRIEND. — LOVE IN 
BRAZIL. — A LOST WAGER. — THE BRAZILIAN LADIES. — THE 
COURT. — THE FUNERALS. — THE THEATRES. — THE LITERA- 
TURE. — TEMPEST AT SEA. — THE RETURN. 

ONE must acknowledge that our country was 
singularly represented in Brazil during the 
twelve years that I inhabited it. 

Having met several times on my way, when I 
first arrived, a tall, thin man, the carrier of a high 
white cravat, out of which his bird-like head seemed 
to emerge as out of a cornet, who went his way 
brushing against the walls, always poorly dressed, 
and shod in rubbers, under a tropical heat, I asked 
who this poor, abashed being was, who. seemed beg- 
ging everybody's pardon for the audacity of his 
stature, — the only one he had, — besides which, 
he tried to dissimulate, in humbly bending before 
everybody. 



IIO A PARISIAN IN BRAZIL. 

I was told that it was Mr. T , our consul at 

Rio, a very good man, it was said, of whom the 
French could justly be proud. At this reply, I 
was provoked with myself for the bad impression 
his sexton-like bearing had given me, and resolved 
to modify my first judgment over our consul. 

Still, do what I might, I always found in this 
man something of the Jesuit, which would not 
agree with me. I had occasion later to judge this 
excellent man, who did not in any manner hold 
up the interests of honest people, and filled out 
his functions of consul in a very odd manner, as 
you will see. 

A lady friend of mine, for example, having been 
left a widow, and without resources, had set about 
to give French and drawing lessons to support the 
two sons which her husband had left her. The 
poor woman, rising at dawn, scarcely taking five 
hours' rest, managed in this way, good and bad 
together, to have both ends meet. One day she 

went to see Mr. T , asking him to help her get 

the sum of two hundred francs, which a pupil of 
hers, a woman of a certain class, owed her for a 
long time, and which she refused to settle. She 
was in this part of her story when our consul^ 
interrupting her suddenly, said, — 



AMONG THE PEOPLE. Ill 

" Have you any debts, madam ? " 

"No, sir; thanks to my incessant work and my 
extreme economy, I haven't any/' she replied. 

" You are then far happier than the person of 
whom, you speak," said the holy man in a soft 
voice. 

" What ! " retorted my friend : " you find that I 
am happier than this lady, who denies herself 
nothing, while I deny myself everything, and who 
remains nonchalantly stretched all day on her 
marquesa" (couch made of rushes on which the 
Brazilians sleep during the great heat), "while I 
have to run about in sunshine or rain ?" 

" She has debts, and you have none : you are, 
assuredly, the most happy one." 

"Then she it is whom you pity, and you find it 
just that my work should be unpaid ? " 

"I do not find it just, dear lady, only, I tell 
you, you are the least to be pitied, since you have 
no debts." 

And this was all she could get out of it ; he did 
not answer her otherwise to all her arguments ; 
and this good man did not interest himself in the 
least in her affair. 

Another time, it was my turn to go and find 
him for something similar. 



1.12 A PARISIAN IN BRAZIL. 

A carriage-maker, in the sale of a carriage to 
my husband, had made an act of dishonesty, and 
cheated his customer, so to say. My husband 
protested, and wished to have the carriage ap- 
praised before paying the price agreed upon. 

When I entered the consulate, Mr. T nearly 

prostrated himself before me, which made me 
think it my duty to declare, at the very soonest, 
my name and baptismal name, thinking he took 
me, perhaps, for some empress in disguise. 

After I had explained the whole matter to him, 
" What do you propose to do ? " he asked me. 

"But, sir, I do not know, since it is precisely 
what I come to ask you about." 

"Well, my advice would be to hush up the. 
matter, and not give it consequences." 

" Yet, you see that we have been cheated ? " 

" Without question." 

" You wish us to pay, all the same ? " 

" Assuredly : you are honest people, and have 
your conscience for you ; that must be sufficient to 
you." 

" Not exactly." 

" Besides, this amount is not of much conse- 
quence to you." 

" I beg your pardon, sir." 



AMONG THE PEOPLE. 113 

" There ! there ! you're not so poor," he con- 
tinued smilingly. 

" Fortunately for us/' I answered him ; "for I 
see if we reckoned only upon your protection in 
this country, we might die of hunger." 

Thereupon I took leave of this excellent man, 
who accompanied me way to the door, in continu- 
ing to bow in the lowest manner possible to him. 

This was all I had obtained. 

This extreme condescension for swindlers had 
given our consul many sympathies, you can imag- 
ine ; the same as his affectation, in going out under 
a burning sun, wearing rubbers, under pretext of 
giving all to the poor, which had gained him the 
reputation of saintliness. But on solemn occa- 
sions, at the Te Deum> for this or that anniversary, 
when our navy would parade headed by music, and 
that one would perceive, in the midst of all these 
brilliant uniforms, all these decorations, all our 
waving flags, this tall, old man with the long neck, 
concealing himself behind some column, not dar- 
ing to look any one in the face, and murmuring 
some confused sentences, one could not hardly 
help exclaiming, "It is a fact, the French have 
there a singular representative ! " 

As for our own minister, Mr. de St , although 



114 A PARISIAN IN BRAZIL. 

he differed on all points with his consul, he repre- 
sented France not less oddly than Mr. T in 

the interests of his compatriots. 

He was short, stout, round like a ball ; also was 
it said that between the two they completed the 
jumping-jack. 

Mr. de St was nearing forty upon our ar- 
rival in Brazil. He must have been a very hand- 
some fellow, and had the reputation of being very 
fond of the ladies. Married recently to a Brazilian 
lady, he occupied at Cattete a pretty villa, where 
every week he would give a little evening party. 
There, with the exception of the admiral, a few 
navy officers, and a Frenchwoman (formerly of a 
certain class) married to a rich Portuguese merchant 
as questionable as she, were received only Brazil- 
ians, which in no small measure contributed to 
discredit French society in the eyes of the natives. 
But what did it matter to our minister, of whom 
nothing of the Frenchman was left but the name ? 

One could not say that Mr. de St carried 

high the flag of France ; but as the government 
of Brazil had not the smallest desire to declare 
war against us, it was found that the attitude of 
our minister had fortunately no importance what- 
ever. 



AMONG THE PEOPLE. IK 

Owing, without doubt, to the exclusion of the 
French residents from the drawing-room of their 
minister, our compatriots were very little thought 
of at Rio Janeiro at this time. It must be said 
that the French colony consisted largely of work- 
ing people, hair-dressers, and milliners, who had 
left their country poor, to come and seek their for- 
tune in America, and that all these people did 
not shine too brightly by their manners or educa- 
tion. 

However, there was also at Rio a small nucleus 
of well-educated persons, — artists, journalists, mer- 
chants, — who would have met each other with 
pleasure at the embassy of the representative of 
their country, and who could have given the inhab- 
itants of Rio a better opinion of the French 
nation than that which they formed in Ouvidor 
Street, at their tailors or at their florists. 

As the Brazilian ladies never went out alone in 
the streets at this epoch, one would meet only in 
the city the French ladies or English ladies, who, 
by the very fact of going out alone, would see 
themselves exposed to many adventures. There- 
fore the French ladies, were they married or not, 
could not step outside without seeing them- 
selves assailed with compliments, ogled, and with 



Il6 A PARISIAN IN BRAZIL. 

billets-doux, in a style as cavalierly about as this : 
" Madam, I love you. Can you receive me at 
your house this evening ? " Not more ceremony 
than this. 

These gentlemen thought they had only to pre- 
sent themselves, and that, as the French ladies 
smiled pleasantly and conversed as easily with ; 
men as with women, their conquest was of the 
easiest. Happily more than one received of our 
fair compatriots some good lessons. 

Some wagers were taken in the city in regard to 
a French lady, and it was the doctor with the 
skeleton, of whom I have already spoken, who, 
sceptic in the highest degree, wagered for the 
ruin of our fair compatriot. 

Immediately a handsome officer, very much 
smitten with the lady, began the campaign, show- 
ering upon her bouquets and billets-doux, through 
the intermediary of the blacks, whom he bribed, 
while another one, a not less charming cavalier, 
followed our "Parisienne" everywhere, and passed 
whole nights under her window. Lost labors ! 
The lady mercilessly shut doors and windows in 
their faces, and returned their love-letters without 
answers. They, all abashed, returned each day to 
the doctor, telling their ill-success, who would tell 



AMONG THE PEOPLE. 117 

them, " Do not lose courage, it is only a question 
of time." 

However, at the end of two years, seeing their 
walks and labors at their own loss, they summoned 
the doctor to pay the wager he had lost ; which 
did not prevent our Brazilian from repeating that 
he did not believe in the virtue of any woman in 
general, and the French ladies in particular. 

It was not until long afterwards that our fair 
compatriot learned that she had been the subject 
of a wager, and doubly congratulated herself in 
having put these fops in their places. 

I admit, as for me, that nothing has ever 
amused me so much as to see these Brazilians, so 
sure of their conquest, laughed at by our French 
ladies, who, as you know, in point of mockery or 
coquetry, can teach lessons to all the nations of 
the earth. 

By means of little lessons of this kind the 
Americans of the South have at last understood 
that there are women who, because they go alone 
on foot, under a scorching sun, earning their living 
in teaching, are but the more honorable, and they 
begin by no longer saying, with that air of profound 
disdain, " It is a madame ! " because more than one 
madame has taught them how to behave. 



Il8 A PARISIAN IN BRAZIL. 

As for the Brazilian ladies, penned up as they 
are by their husbands in the enclosure of their 
houses, in the midst of their children and their 
slaves, never going out unaccompanied to either 
mass or processions, one must not imagine, on that 
account, that they are more virtuous than others, 
only they have the art of appearing so. 

Everything is done mysteriously in these impene- 
trable abodes, where the lash has made the slave 
as silent as the tomb. Under the cloak of the 
family even, many things are hidden. All this is, 
or at least was (for since several years the Brazilian 
ladies go out alone), — all this is the fruit of the 
sequestration imposed upon women. Besides, the 
appearances are so well guarded that one must 
live years in the land to begin to know the inner 
life of these homes, of such patriarchal customs 
and habits, at first sight, where frequently three 
generations live together under the same roof in 
the most perfect concord ; for one must say, in this 
regard, that the Brazilians are much our superiors. 
They have found the secret of uniting in the 
same house son-in-law, mother-in-law, daughter-in- 
law, without there ever being conflict. That fero- 
cious hatred for the mother-in-law, which is at 
present professed in France, is unknown over 



AMONG THE PEOPLE. 1 19 

there. One does not believe that, by the simple 
fact of marrying her daughter or her son, a mother 
who has been good and devoted all her life can 
suddenly become a monster. One has the great- 
est respect for the father and the mother. 

When the Brazilian comes home he finds in his 
house a dutiful wife, whom he treats as a spoilt 
child, bringing her dresses, jewels, and ornaments 
of all kinds ; but this woman is not associated to 
him, neither in his business, his preoccupations, 
nor his thoughts. It is a doll whom he dresses 
for an occasion, and who, in reality, is but the first 
slave of the house ; although the Brazilian of Rio 
Janeiro is never brutal, and exercises his despotism 
in a manner almost gentle. All this besides, as I 
have already said, is undergoing complete changes. 

The Brazilian ladies of to-day, educated in French 
or English boarding schools, have little by little 
taken our habits and our manner of seeing ; so 
that very gradually they acquire their liberty. 
Then, as their intelligence is very quick, I think - 
that in a short time they will have surpassed their 
teachers. 

It is in the interior of the country, whose roads 
are impassable but on donkey-back, and which 
render communication with the capital very diffi- 



120 A PARISIAN IN BRAZIL. 

cult, that one can still study all these customs of 
Portuguese or Spanish origin. Likewise, when 
you arrive in a fazenda, do you never perceive the 
senhora, while she always has the means of seeing 
the stranger without their ever being aware of it. 
The mascatoes (pedlers) have alone the privilege 
of being introduced near the lady of the house, 
and it is one of the grand events at the fazenda 
when the mascato comes. One must see him open 
his boxes and spread out before the dona du casa 
(lady of the house) and her slaves the pieces of 
chita (printed calico), of cassa (muslin), of cam- 
braia (cambric), the fitas (ribbons) of all colors, 
the Jotas (jewelry) of all makes. Mulattresses and 
negresses stand there with staring eyes and open 
mouth, wishing to buy all, with a pataca ( sixteen 
cents) as their sole fortune, and always ending 
with the purchase of a simple kerchief. 

The mascato is petted in secret by the negresses 
of the fazenda, who do not treat him cruelly, for 
little, if he wishes; but he is badly treated enough 
by the master of the house, who knows him to be 
a thief generally, and takes care to have the silver 
guarded when he sees him appear. However, he 
is given, like everybody, the hospitality of the 
night in the guest chamber, room opening on the 



AMONG THE PEOPLE. 121 

veranda of the house and not differently connected 
with any other apartments. 

When you come to ask for hospitality, this room 
is always open to you, and a negress comes and 
brings you your bath, which every Brazilian is 
accustomed to take before going to bed, the same 
as \X\q feijoada or the rice for your supper. When 
the traveller is of a certain class, the fazendeiro 
even has the kindness of sending his bath to him 
by the handsomest slave of the house. 

The Brazilian is very hospitable ; his table is 
open to all. I know of one who has his office in 
town, where he receives all who wish to come and 
dine with him, which makes that his man cook 
prepares a dinner for twenty or thirty persons 
daily. In our countries this seems princely. At 
Rio Janeiro it is not even noticed. Likewise, the 
stinginess of our habits and our boards greatly 
surprise the South Americans when they come to 
France. 

One of the opinions most generally accredited 
to the Brazilian lady is that she is lazy and re- 
mains unoccupied all day. One is mistaken : the 
Brazilian lady does nothing herself, but has others 
do it ; she takes great pride in never being seen 
in any occupation whatever. However, when one 



122 A PARISIAN IN BRAZIL. 

is admitted into her intimacy, one finds her in the 
morning, her bare feet in tamancas, a dressing- 
gown of muslin for dress, presiding at the making 
of doces (preserves of all sorts), of the cocada 
(cocoa jelly), and arranging them on the taboleiro 
(large wooden platter) of her negresses or negroes, 
who soon leave to sell in the city the doces, the 
fruits, the vegetables of the plantation. 

They gone, the senhoras prepare the sewing for 
the mulattresses ; for nearly all the clothes of the 
children, of the master and mistress are cut and 
sewn at home. Then there are also napkins and 
handkerchiefs made in crivo point, which are sent 
to be sold, like the rest. Each one of the slaves, 
called gaj/ho, must bring back to his mistress a 
certain designated sum at the end of each day, 
and many are beaten when they return without 
this sum. This is what constitutes the pocket- 
money of the Brazilian ladies, and allows them to 
satisfy their whims. 

They receive from France fashion plates, which 
they try to copy ; but the majority have their 
dresses made by the great French dress-makers, 
where the least expensive ball dress costs from fif- 
teen to eighteen hundred francs. 

As I was saying a little while ago, a Brazilian 



AMONG THE PEOPLE. 123 

lady would blush to be caught in any occupation 
whatever, for they profess the greatest disdain for 
all who work, The pride of the South American 
is extreme. Everybody wants to be master, no 
one wishes to serve. One admits, in Brazil, of no 
other profession but that of physician, lawyer, or 
wholesale merchant. 

A Brazilian or Brazilian lady must never be sur- 
prised at anything whatever. When I would re- 
turn from France with toilets of the latest fashion, 
I noticed the ladies looked at me secretly, by 
stealth, so as to study without appearing to do so 
the cut of my clothes, which not one of them 
would have acknowledged seeing for the first time. 
Should one have spoken to them about it, they 
would all have replied, unquestionably, " It is quite 
a long time since we wear that here." 

One cannot say that the Brazilian ladies are 
beautiful, although, in general, they have beautiful 
eyes and splendid hair. There are certainly some 
very pretty ones ; but the majority are either too 
thin or too stout, and what they lack above all 
is charm. They dress badly, generally ignoring 
elegant undress, and those thousand little nothings 
which make the Parisienne so bewitching. The 
expression of their faces is haughty and disdainful. 



124 A PARISIAN IN BRAZIL. 

They think by this that they give themselves the 
correct air, ignoring that, on the contrary, the true 
great ladies are simple, affable, and of the most 
exquisite politeness. They are willingly insolent 
enough, if one does not take the master hand over 
them. Money is the only superiority which they 
acknowledge ; likewise, the most eminent artist is 
little thought of if he has not a cent. One should 
see the manner in which the natives say, in speak- 
ing of some one who is not rich, " Coitadinho 
dfollel Coitado!" It is untranslatable. It means, 
poor unfortunate ! But it is full of a compassion 
mixed with disdain, which we cannot render in 
French. 

You are only considered in Brazil by your 
clothes, by the number of your slaves, etc. ; but, 
besides, you may be a little dishonest, without its 
being shocking the least in the world. One gen- 
erally speaks of a man who has made his fortune 
in little ways not the most honest, Soube arrcuigear 
se (He knew how to arrange matters) ; or else, 
Entende de negocios (He understands business). 

Extreme probity is a coin which has very little 
circulation in the land, so that one is thoroughly 
surprised to see people make much ado about it, 
and that the Brazilians are quite disposed to look 



AMONG THE PEOPLE. 12$ 

upon those who consider it before all as dupes or 
as lunatics. 

And yet this nation has done that which the 
French could not have done. It has brought up 
the child which Dom Pedro I. (after the Consti- 
tution had been proclaimed) intrusted to it to 
some day make its Emperor, and of this child it has 
made an honest man, a scholar, a liberal Emperor. 

Dom Pedro II. gives his subjects the example of 
goodness ; and when one thinks in what a centre 
of corruption he has been brought up, one must 
give him double credit for it. The earnestness of 
his tastes and studies is not either an ordinary 
thing in Brazil, where every man conceals under a 
grave exterior the greatest frivolity. 

The Emperor of Brazil speaks seven languages, 
Portuguese, Latin, Spanish, Italian, French, English, 
German, and last of all he has learned Hebrew. 
The science that he prefers above all others is, 
by what one is told, astronomy ; likewise has he 
taught this science to his two daughters. After 
he visited France for the first time he left us the 
highest opinion of him as a scholar ; and in the 
second journey which he made through our coun- 
try he became thoroughly known. He alone, 
who had abolished slavery and endowed his people 



126 A PARISIAN IN BRAZIL. 

with all progress and large liberty, could allow 
himself to come in the midst of our young repub- 
lican students ; so fully did his conscience tell him 
that there was nothing to fear from them, for 
he was the most liberal of all. At the The'atre 
Frangais he was seen applauding with enthusiasm 
all the tirades upon father-land and liberty which 
are to be found in "Jean Dacier," a play written 
especially and acted by Coquelin. A new Peter 
the Great, the Emperor of Brazil has travelled 
through all lands, borrowing from each what he 
thought might be useful to his father-land. Like- 
wise, Brazil, since twenty years, is walking fa giant 
strides ; it is furrowed now by railways ; it has 
schools of all kinds ; painters and musicians are 
beginning to reveal themselves ; the press is free, 
the Constitution respected, and the Brazilians give 
the example of a liberty without license, allied to a 
profound love for their Emperor. 

What is most surprising is, that, in a country so 
full of pride, where the smallest merchant thinks 
himself a power, the Emperor is assuredly the 
most accessible of all his subjects. There is no 
need of asking an audience, to be admitted to his 
presence : he receives every Thursday, at his 
palace of San Christovo {see engraving), those 
who "wish to speak with him, 



AMONG THE PEOPLE. 127 

One awaits him in a long gallery, which the 
Emperor crosses at a certain given hour. There 
each one in turn explains what brought him hither. 
He seizes very rapidly what is told him, has a 
prodigious memory, and replies very briefly in the 
language of the person who speaks to him. The 
very poorest people are admitted to the palace. 

Each one must kiss the hand of the Emperor 
in arriving and in taking leave ; for, whatever may 
have been said, kissing the hand still exists in 
Brazil. It is the only established etiquette. For 
my part, I have often pitied Dom Pedro II., to be 
obliged to abandon his aristocratic hand to dirty 
people, whose breath alone could have been able 
to communicate to him some bad sickness ; for 
what is curious is that custom obliges one, in kiss- 
ing the hand of the Emperor, to draw off one's 
glove and touch his with the naked hand. 

To give an idea with what facility one enters 
the Emperor's palace, here is an authentic story, 
which was told me by one of the ladies at court : — 

One day when the princesses were in their study 
(or school-room) with the Countess de Barral, 
their governess, and Mile. Templier, their teacher, 
a valet came and announced the Archduke of 
Austria, later the unfortunate Emperor Maximilian. 



128 A PARISIAN IN BRAZIL. 

The prince excuses himself for coming thus, with- 
out previously having solicited the favor of being 
received by their Highnesses, and tells, in smiling, 
that in leaving his carriage he entered the palace 
without being questioned, without even meeting a 
guard on his way. He had stepped straight for- 
ward, much surprised, not meeting any one ; then 
finally, a lackey had appeared, whom he asked for 
the Emperor. 

He was told that the latter was away on a two- 
days' visit with the Empress, but that the prin- 
cesses were at home, and that they would be 
notified. 

"By whom then is the Emperor guarded ?" con- 
tinued the grand duke. 

"By the love of his people, your Highness," 
answered him the Countess de Barral. 

Truly, this does honor to the nation and to the 
sovereign ! 

I had the honor of being admitted twice to some 
intimate little soirees given by the imperial prin- 
cesses, who had kindly had me asked to arrange, 
or rather to disarrange, a play of Racine's, Les 
Plaideurs> so that they could represent it ; and I 
must say that I have always seen the greatest 
simplicity reign at the court, where the Emperor 



AMONG THE PEOPLE. 1 29 

and Empress — one can say it — give the example 
of the greatest virtues. I can say all this now, 
without being taxed as flattering, since my com- 
patriots have been able to judge the Emperor 
for themselves, and have seen that I exaggerate 
nothing. 

The life of the Empress is passed concentrated 
in her family and charity ; still the imperial couple 
cannot do all the good they wish, because the sum 
allotted the Emperor by the House is not enor- 
mous. He deprives himself, therefore, to give. 

One of the most distinguished persons at the 
court is assuredly the Countess de Barral, a Bra- 
zilian lady, educated in France, and married to one 
of our greatest French names. She it is who has 
directed the education of the two princesses. 
Their teacher, Mile. Templier, has also been a 
French lady, recommended to the court of Brazil 
by Queen Amalie. 

Thanks to their directress, grand dame in verity, 
and to their teacher, a person perfectly recom- 
mendable and highly educated, the two princesses 
have had the very best education, and have become 
two charming women. One of them, married to 
the Duke of Saxe, has died, unfortunately, a few 
years ago, 



I3O A PARISIAN IN BRAZIL. 

The imperial princess, the one who is to succeed 
the Emperor, and whose husband is the Count 
d'Eu, alone is living. All the male children of the 
Emperor and Empress of Brazil died at an early 
age ; but the imperial princess has given birth to 
two sons, who are the hope of Brazil. 

To return to the Brazilian ladies : when they lose 
their husbands they must remain eight days con- 
fined to a room whose blinds are all carefully shut. 
It is there that, plunged in the deepest obscur- 
ity, they receive the visits of their relatives and 
friends. Once widows, the women never leave off 
mourning, unless they remarry ; only, at the end 
of several years, it is more half mourning that they 
wear ; thus the widows must never dress them- 
selves but in black, purple, or high blue, which is 
considered as a color of mourning in the land. 

During the first days which follow the death, 
it is customary at Rio Janeiro to expose the 
deceased dressed in his best clothes in the mid- 
dle of the drawing-room, where each one comes 
to bid him tlffe la 4 st good-by. 

The burial of a child calls forth no mournful 
thought. Convinced that they are angels, who go 
to heaven, the Brazilians, after having exposed the 
child dressed in white and crowned with roses, 



AMONG THE PEOPLE. I3I 

place it in a little pink or red coffin. This casket 
is placed across the two door curtains of a sega 
(a kind of coupe, driven by two horses by a pos- 
tilion) painted red, and at each side of the car- 
riage four or six men on horseback, in red liveries, 
and large burning tapers in their hand, accompany 
the body to the cemetery. 

It is not in the customs of the country that the 
parents should follow the body. On all the routes 
of the procession, the Brazilian ladies throw roses 
to the little angel ; it is very touching. 

That which struck me rather oddly upon my 
arrival was to hear the soldiers, upon returning 
from the burial of one of their officers or com- 
rades, play quadrilles and polkas on their instru- 
ments. This jovial manner of carrying the body 
to earth seemed to me full of originality. I asked 
the reason. I was told that it was in order not to 
sadden the soldiers too much and to get up again 
their courage. 

A mournful thing, by example, is to see the 
Holy Sacrament carried through the town. The 
padre, carrying the Christ, is followed by two 
choir-boys, one of whom rings a little bell from 
minute to minute. According, as the Holy Sac- 
rament passes, all the inhabitants prostrate their 



132 A PARISIAN IN BRAZIL. 

faces to the ground, and the majority, especially 
the little negroes, follow it with candles, and in 
singing the psalms of deliverance. 

All these people, in uttering mournful cries, 
accompany the priest to the door of the dying 
one, whom fright must finish off more than once 
assuredly. 

One ignores, in Brazil, what gallantry is. When 
the women are young, one tells it to them with 
exaggerations of praise, and one does not fear to 
call them goddesses, divinities, etc. When they 
are so no longer, it is told them just the same. 
Now, for the Brazilians, every woman who is past 
thirty is an old woman, and they would not be 
afraid to say to her then, "Esta acabada ! " (You are 
played out !) It is not very amiable, as you see. 

To begin from this moment, woman no longer 
counts. Likewise, the Brazilian ladies when come 
to this age generally give up society. They do 
up their hair with negligence, no matter how, no 
longer go out in the world at all, and remain 
all day in their loose dressing-gowns, and without 
corsets. 

When the father or mother of the family is 
spoken of, the children, and even the slaves of the 
house, designate them by the names of a velka. 



Among the people. 133 

o velho (old woman, old man) ; and yet the respect 
for the father is carried to the highest point. The 
children kiss his hand in the morning and in the 
evening, and would not dare embrace him. They 
never address them in the second person. All 
this forms rather a curious mixture, which greatly 
surprises Europeans. 

Although the Brazilian people are very intelli- 
gent, they still ignore (or at least they did years 
ago) what conversation means; they read little. 
Philosophical questions interested them but little 
at this time, and they never stirred up the reli- 
gious questions. 

They are Catholic without questionings, go to 
mass regularly, burn candles for all the saints in 
paradise, and believe all possible and probable 
miracles, which does not prevent its clergy from 
being dissolute enough, and that one does not 
constrain one's self from saying at Rio, "That 
mulatto is the son of Padre S ." 

If one catches a fish of great price in the bay, 
one also knows beforehand that he will be bought 
by the convent of Sao Ben to ; for the monks of 
this convent are Benedictines, renowned through 
the city for their greediness. They give each 
year a large feast, when, it is said, more than one 



134 A PARISIAN IN BRAZIL. 

woman, on this day, disguised in man's clothes, 
enters the convent and passes a part of the night. 

This was told me by a little monk who had re- 
nounced orders, and who had left Sao Bento by 
scaling the walls. 

All this is told in a low voice, but, however, 
does not prevent the respect of the people for the 
good monks, and in general for all those who wear 
the gown or cassock. The padres and the frades 
do what they like, and exercise a large influence in 
the bosom of the family. 

Music excepted, the other arts were not at all 
yet appreciated in Brazil during our stay; likewise, 
subjects of conversation were not abundant. Add 
to this a climate that debilitates, a heat which 
forces you to fan and sponge yourself constantly, 
and you will understand why one converses so 
little in Brazil. 

I, who came from the artistic centre of Paris, 
and who had been accustomed to listen to the de- 
bating of all social, political, literary, and artistic 
questions in my father's drawing-room, was much 
surprised upon my arrival at Rio by this absolute 
lack of conversation. Having gone to pay a visit 
in a Brazilian family, o dono da casa (the head of 
the family) began by asking us, naturally, " Come 



AMONG THE PEOPLE. 1 35 

esta?" (How do you do ?) After this convention- 
ality, we expected something more ; nothing com- 
ing, there was a silence, which the head of the 
house broke by repeating, " Entad a senhora passon 
bein ? " (Then madam has been well ?) " Very well," 
I replied for a second time; and I tried to speak 
of the theatre and of the prima donna in fashion. 
After two brief replies, exchanged upon the sub- 
ject, the conversation again dropped, and gave place 
to a silence of several minutes, which seeing, our 
host thought it well to again renew the subject by 
addressing to me for the third time the question, 
" Ora tern passado bein?" (Well, then, you have 
been well ?) This time I could stand it no longer, 
and, laughter overtaking us, my husband and I 
were obliged to take leave. 

We saw later, on different occasions, that the 
"Come passon?" (How do you do?) is the custom- 
ary manner in the land of renewing conversation, 
which ordinarily so languishingly flags that caHs 
are shortened. 

The senhor fazendeiro, of whom I have already 
spoken, would come, when he was in town, to see 
us three or four times a week. He would enter in 
a grave manner, inquire the state of our health, 
seat himself directly in front of me, and would not 



I36 A PARISIAN IN BRAZIL. 

breathe a word. As I had been godmother over 
one of his children, I naturally tried to put myself 
out to make some conversation during his first 
comings, but I would become so tired that I found 
it more amusing in the end not to say anything 
at all. He would come in therefore, seat himself, 
remain there an hour, and sometimes two, without 
speaking, then would rise suddenly, and go off like 
a bomb-shell. 

If one does not talk, one dances, in revenge, 
with force in Brazil, which is surprising, with the 
excessive heat. 

Custom requires that the partner, after the 
square dance or waltz, take the arm of his lady, 
promenade her about a little in the drawing-room, 
and then lead her to the buffet ; after which he 
bows to her and goes to another. For jealous 
people, this custom is extraordinary enough, for 
it is there that the customary declarations are at- 
tempted ; and another custom not less extraordinary 
is that the cavalier drinks in the glass of his lady. 

The secret correspondence of lovers is frequently 
enough made by means of the Journal do Commer- 
cio (now one has an idea of it by the correspond- 
ence of the Figaro). There, two pages at least 
are consecrated to phrases in the style of these : — 



AMONG THE PEOPLE. 137 

" I waited for you yesterday, and you did not 
come ! He who is dying of love for you implores 
an answer to his letter." 

" O virgin, I have read heaven in thine eyes ! " 

" Don't pass Under my windows any more : you 
are watched,'' etc. 

Sometimes it is very amusing to follow this cor- 
respondence. Very frequently one sees a whole 
drama unrolling itself. Then there are mistakes: 
one letter has been taken for another, and the 
action becomes complicated. 

As to what regards the army, I ignore what 
mode of recruiting is employed to form it, but 
during my sojourn in Brazil it was composed of 
little else than mulattoes and negroes, which seemed 
very strange to me; for it was to the sons of the 
slaves that was intrusted the care of guarding the 
country which had enslaved their fathers. Every 
hidalgo s son is a cadet by right, which is to say, 
officer. 

Since the war, which Brazil has sustained with 
much courage, and which has been crowned with 
success, I have been assured that there are many 
more whites among the soldiers, and that the law 
of recruiting has been revised. In the moment of 
war, each Brazilian who gave five or six of his slaves 



138 A PARISIAN IN BRAZIL. 

as soldiers was ennobled, and the slaves free, — 
free to be soldiers, and to be killed. 

Nothing is funnier than a negro dressed as sol- 
dier. He reminds one of the monkeys dressed as 
generals, which our organ-grinders conduct through 
the streets, obliging them to drill. 

In point of stage at Rio Janeiro, there is 
only the Theatre Lyrique, where Italian opera is 
given, and which swell society attends. The thea- 
tre is very beautiful. All the boxes are very much 
exposed, which allows one to see the toilet of a 
lady from head to foot. One only goes there in 
dxollete dress and in short sleeves, and once a 
year the Emperor and Empress attend the play in 
full robes : it is on the day of the opening of the 
House, — the Emperor all bedizened with gold, 
with the imperial mantle, and the Empress with the 
diadem, the mantle of ermine, and all the crown 
diamonds. 

The other theatre, called Sao Pedro, where are 
represented the French dramas and comedies 
translated into Portuguese, does not attract the 
best society. It has already been burned down 
twice. The first tragedian in the land, Joao Cse- 
tano dos Santos, who really possessed great talent, 
had taken its direction, and had added the ballet 



Among the people. 139 

to comedy. Since his death, the theatre has com- 
pletely fallen. 

There have not yet been, I think, more than 
one or two Brazilian works represented, which goes 
to prove, whatever may be written in different 
works upon Brazil, that the nations of South 
America are yet very backward, from an artistic 
stand-point. They have a few poets, however, the 
best of whom are, in my opinion, Gonzalves, Dias, 
and Malgalhaes It is grace, above all, which 
dominates in the character of their poetry. I give 
a few as patterns at the end of the volume. Many 
words, many pictures, a certain harmony, but little 
of thought and depth ; besides, here is what is 
said, over the literature, by one of its own com- 
patriots : " The first aspect of any literature what- 
ever is the lyrical ; and should the precocious pride 
of our youth suffer by it, the Brazilian literature 
finds itself but only on the border, hardly in its 
infancy as yet, in the lyrical phase, in short." 

" A primeira phase de uma litteratura qualquer 
e lyrismo, e mal que pere ao orgulho precoce da 
nossa mocidade, a litteratura Brazileira acha se 
ainda nos primeiros limbos, acha se na sua infancia, 
a penenas, na phase do lyrismo, enfine. 

"Dr. Cetano Filgueiras." 



140 A PARISIAN IN BRAZIL. 

This is judging the question well. One of their 
best novels has for its title Le Gnarany> by Alain- 
car, and of which I propose to offer a translation 
one of these days to the Parisian public. It 
is a faithful painting of the life of the Indian, 
which is at the same time poetical and true. I 
have also translated from the Brazilian a little 
novel, called Cinco Minutos, which is not lacking 
in originality ; it is also by the pen of d'Alaincar, 
whose talent is incontestable. 

The Brazilian language, with all its diminutives 
of zinha, zinhos, has an entire Creole grace, and I 
never can hear it spoken without finding a great 
charm in it : it is the Portuguese with its nasal 
accent modified. The mother tongue has evi- 
dently degenerated. " It is a kind of patois" say 
the Portuguese. Never mind : all its caressing 
endings are becoming to it, and give to the 
Brazilian tongue a "something" which captivates 
the ear far more than the pure language of Ca- 
moens. 

The Eldorado, cafe chantairi (cafe), which was 
opened at Rio Janeiro some fifteen years ago, has 
brought our popular operettas into fashion over 
there, and the stars of this theatre return from 
there loaded with diamonds. It is at the Eldorado 



AMONG THE PEOPLE. I4I 

that the Brazilian youths go and take their French 
lesson every evening : judge, therefore., ' 

When one wishes to make the journey to Brazil, 
the best season to accomplish it is in May or 
June, because then you arrive in winter, and have 
better chance to become acclimated, and avoiding 
yellow fever, which, besides, is no longer as deadly, 
and which, in taking precaution, one can guard 
against. Moreover, the trips across at this time 
of the year are delightful. 

When I returned to Brazil for the second time, 
after a year's stay in my own country, I did not 
wish to take to the sea before the month of May ; 
likewise, the voyage was a perfect promenade. 

I had embarked on a magnificent clipper, called 
the "Paulista," Capt. Callange. 

One day while I was on deck, a superb New- 
foundland dog, with long and glossy coat, intelli- 
gent and kind eye, approached me, and began 
lapping the hands of my child, seated on my knees. 
I caressed him, and asked to whom he belonged. 

"He is mine," said the captain ; "and I am so 
attached to him that, on my last voyage, as Pol- 
lux (the dog's name) had taken a notion t«® jump 
overboard to take a sea-bath at the moment when 
we were having a splendid breeze and running 



I42 A PARISIAN IN BRAZIL. 

twenty-five knots an hour, at the risk of breaking 
masts and rudder, I ordered the pilot to immedi- 
ately turn the helm to the wind, to allow the dog 
to rejoin us ; and I can assure you there was n't a 
murmur in the crew for this manoeuvre, which had 
in view, after all, but an animal's life." 

" He is then much beloved by the sailors ? " 
" It is but just. Think of it : they owe to him 
the life of one of their own. Three years ago, 
we were at the entrance of the British Channel, 
always so bad ; the wind was blowing from the 
east, a tempest was coming. I commanded one of 
my men to tackle the sails, and one of them, 
in executing this order, fell into the water. At 
this cry of, ' A man has fallen into the sea ! ' I 
hastened, in spite of the dreadful weather we 
were having, to stop the clipper's run, and the 
sailors hastened to throw from all sides salvage 
buoys to their unfortunate comrade. 

"Pollux, at the cry given by the crew, had im- 
mediately jumped into the waves, in search of the 
sailor, who, not knowing how to swim (for it is 
incredible how many there are in this case), did 
not reappear. The brave dog dived and dived in 
again. Soon we saw him reappear, holding the 
man by his cravat ; but at the moment when he 



AMONG THE PEOPLE. 143 

appeared on the water's surface the cravat gave 
way, and the unfortunate man ..disappeared for a 
second time. The distress of the poor dog is 
extreme ; he tries in vain to seize the sailor by 
the hair, whose head, close shaven, offers no hold. 
There we were, breathless, watching the turns of 
this rescue. Finally, we see Pollux holding the 
man by his shirt, and struggling thus some 
moments against the waves ; then, seeing that the 
•sailor is debilitated, and almost without conscious- 
ness, the intelligent animal then glides under him, 
lifts him up, and swims thus in holding his head 
above water, which allows the poor devil to regain 
his consciousness. From time to time Pollux 
also reappears, to take breath in his turn, then 
hastens to regain his post under the man, whom 
he finally brings next to the ship, where, fresh ropes 
having -been thrown to him, the poor sailor could 
be taken on board, thanks to my brave dog, who 
himself had much pain to remount, and fell upon 
the deck exhausted with fatigue. 

" Then, not knowing how to be grateful enough 
for the devotion and the courage of Pollux, .the 
crew decreed, all present, and unanimously, that 
such an animal should be treated as a man; that 
henceforth his ration should be previously levied 



144 A PARISIAN IN BRAZIL. 

from that of the sailors, and that he should have 
his place reserved in their midst at meal hours. 
If you care to be present at noon, in the back of 
the ship, madam, you can assure yourself of the 
veracity of my story." 

I did not allow him to tell me twice, and at the 
sailors' dinner hour I was present at a curious 
sight. 

The whole crew were ranged in a circle, and 
each one, spoon in hand, was waiting his turn to 
dip into the immense porringer, against which a 
smaller one had been placed ; this one belonged 
to Pollux, that, with the first stroke of the bell, 
ran up to take his accustomed place in the midst 
of his friends, of whom he each day learned some 
new trick. The brave dog then sat down to eat 
his soup, with all the dignity which his new social 
position required, only wagging his tail in sign of 
joy each time that one of the sailors would pro- 
nounce his name. 

So here is the very true history of the dog of 
the " Paulista." 

Therefore, to return to voyages of South Amer- 
ica : one must never undertake them in September 
or March. 

I had the imprudence to sail once in this last- 



AMONG THE PEOPLE. I45 

named month, and, besides the cold I endured, 
which almost made me ill, we were exposed to 
such a tempest that I thought I should never see 
France again. 

It was one o'clock in the morning ; all were 
sleeping on board excepting the officers on duty, 
when suddenly we were awakened by a dreadful 
crash. It seemed to us as if the ship were smash- 
ing itself to pieces, and water filled our cabins. I 
heard screaming from all sides : " We are sinking, 
captain ! Help ! Help ! " I took my child in my 
arms, and stayed with him in the highest berth, 
waiting with anxiety what would happen next. 

There was, during half an hour, an infernal noise 
on deck; there was a jumping; the reefs of the 
sails were taken in ; sails were taken to roof the 
saloon, whose roof had been swept away ; there was 
a going up and a coming down ; orders followed 
each other ; and the ship, tossed by the tempest, 
threw our poor bodies against the partitions of the 
cabins, soon to the right, soon to the left, without 
giving us a moment's intermission. At last, the 
uproar seemed to calm itself a little on deck, and 
the captain entered my cabin, in saying, "Now, 
then ! are we dead here ?." I asked him what had 
happened. He answered me that we were at the 



I46 A PARISIAN IN BRAZIL. 

entrance of the British Channel, that a terrible 
tempest had suddenly arisen, and that an enormous 
wave having come under the ship had swept over 
the deck, carrying away with it the roof of the 
saloon, sweeping away hen-coops, benches, etc., 
everything which was on deck still, and even 
breaking a mast. " There is little water in the hold 
of the ship, fortunately," he added, " but we could 
not stand another wave like this." 

I arose with much pain, the pitching being fright- 
ful, and sought refuge with my son in one of the 
cabins where the water had not entered ; then I 
wished to go on deck, to contemplate the spectacle 
of the sea in its fury. I could risk myself no 
farther than the last steps of the saloon stair, 
clinging with all force to the balustrade, and 
what I then beheld will never be effaced from my 
memory. 

Immense waves, resembling high mountains, 
surrounded our ship on all sides, and lifted it to 
their height, only to let it drop into the abyss. 
One could not conceive of a passage being made 
in the midst of these mountains of foaming water, 
which threatened to engulf it at each moment. I 
quickly descended, completely horrified, and the 
majority of the men on deck did as I did. Hardly 



AMONG THE PEOPLE. 147 

had they tried to contemplate this spectacle than 
one saw them returning, pale and mute. 

Cooking could no longer be done. Twice had 
the soup been spilled on deck by the cabin-boy 
who brought it ; one had to be satisfied with pre- 
serves and cold victuals. 

This terrible tempest lasted three days, during 
which no one took breath; one could do nothing: 
one waited. At the end of the second day we took 
the pilot, who had much trouble to embark, and 
told us on arriving, " You are very lucky to have 
got off at so little cost. The whole channel is 
strewn with shipwrecks." At last the wind fell, 
and we could enter Havre, where, after having 
landed, I vowed to myself that nevermore should 
month of March see me on the ocean. 

With what happiness I again saw France, after 
ten years passed in America ! I remember my joy 
at the sight of a bouquet of lilacs. " Some lilacs ! " 
said I, with tears in my eyes ; " some lilacs ! It is 
such a long time since I have seen any." The 
proprietress of the hotel, who had heard me, had 
a bouquet sent me to my room. 

However, many were the astonishments and 
disillusions which awaited me upon returning. 
My country, which had remained so beautiful 
in my memory, seemed to me barren, sad, dull, 



I48 A PARISIAN IN BRAZIL. 

in comparison to the one I had just left. When 
I perceived from the window of the car our 
fields cut up into little squares of all shades, it 
gave me the effect of a hearth-rug whose squares 
had been sewn one to another. Our parks re- 
minded me of the sheepf olds given children on 
New- Year's day. Far from being enraptured (as 
I ought perhaps to have been) over the cultivation 
of this land, of which the smallest corner is sown 
full, and produces, it shocked me, and appeared to 
me of an unheard-of meanness. This land, where 
not an inch of ground was lost, where nothing was 
given, where the smallest bit of ground was 
bought, closed my heart up, in spite of myself. I 
recalled to myself those long miles travelled over 
in Brazil, where nature alone takes care to bear 
the costs, where the unhappy one could pluck 
at his leisure banana, orange, and the palmetto 
without being disturbed by whomsoever it might 
be, drink water fresh from the spring without its 
being sold to him, sleep in the forest without a 
policeman's arresting him. 

Under our narrow civilization, it was with pains 
that I could again find nature the same, as I have 
often looked hard to see the sky, which the tall 
houses of our cities conceal from our view. 

How many the times that I have regretted those 



AMONG THE PEOPLE. 1 49 

immense horizons, which elevate the soul and the 
thoughts, my sea-baths in the moonlight on the 
phosphorescent beach, my horseback rides through 
the mountains, that beautiful bay on which the 
windows of my house looked out, and where, at 
night, the boats of the fishermen would pass, bear- 
ing their torches over the waves. 

Accustomed to occupy a large house, where I 
could offer hospitality to eight people, without 
incommoding myself, I had hard work to accustom 
myself anew to our Parisian life, so narrow, so 
luxuriant in appearance, and so scrimped in its 
reality, where each morsel is counted at our tables, 
where you look before changing your linen daily, 
where the very air seems measured. 'Tis, how- 
ever, in the rich countries, I was told that all that 
is produced. I will admit it ; but I prefer then 
those that are called poor where living is large, 
where the air and the sun are not meted out to 
you, where single fruit is not divided in four, 
where one bathes every day, and where, for almost 
nothing, one can buy, not simply a small corner of 
ground, but miles of land. 

One thing consoled me upon my return for the 
littleness of material existence. "Here I am, 
returned to the country of thought and progress," 
said I. 



150 A PARISIAN IN BRAZIL. 

Alas ! I found everything much changed. The 
Parisians no longer conversed : they smoked, and 
spoke a kind of impossible cant. I fell back upon 
the theatres: comic operas alone were fashionable. 
The sillier it was, the more my compatriots would 
laugh. There always had to be at a certain given 
moment of the play five or six personages who 
would come to the centre of action dancing a kind 
of crazy can-can, and the public would pleasurably 
burst with laughter. 

Where had the Gallic mind gone to ? where had 
the language of the eighteenth century gone to ? 
where had the gallantry and the elegant conversa- 
tions of our fathers gone ? I asked myself. 

Was it then I who saw false, or the people of 
my country ? That was the question I frequently 
set to myself with uneasiness. 

Whatever it may be, I acquired the conviction 
that when one has lived in those countries bathed 
in sunshine, one can no more live anywhere else; 
and that when the soul has strongly steeped itself 
in the sight of the grand works of God, it can no 
longer understand the artificial life of our cities. 

This is what makes me always saudade (home- 
sick), as the Brazilians say, for South America, and 
that I long to see it once again before I die. 



APPENDIX. 



These poems are here given first in the original, then the French 
translation, and lastly, the English. 

CAUQAO DO EXILIO. 

Minha terra tern palmeiras 

Onde canta a Sabia 
As aves que aqui gorgeiao 

Nao gorgeiao como la. 

Nosso ceo tern mais estrellas, 
Nossos varzems tern mais flores, 

Nossos bosques tern mais vida, 
Nossa vida mais amores. 

Em scismar sosinho, a noite, 

Mais prazer encouho en la. 
Minha terra tern palmeiras 

Onde canta o Sabia. 

Minha terra tern primores, 

Que taes nao eucoutro eu ca 
Em scismar sosinho a noite 

Mais prazer encoutro en la. 



152 A PARISIAN IN BRAZIL. 

Minha terra tern palmeiras 
Onde canta o Sabia. 

Nao permitte Deos que en morra 
Sem que en volta para la 

Sem que desfructe os primores 
Que nao encontro por ca, 

Sem qu' inda avista as palmeiras 
Onde canta O Sabia. 



CHANT DE L'EXIL. 

Mon pays a des ombrages 

Ou chante le Sabia. 
Les oiseaux de vos parages 

Ne chantent pas comme la. 

Notre ciel a plus d'etoiles, 

Nos compagnes plus de fleurs, 

Nos bois vivants plus de voiles, 
Plus d'amour aussi nos coeurs. 

A rever seul, sur tes plages, 
Quel plaisir j'ai goute la ! 

Ses palmiers ont des ombrages 
Ou chante le Sabia. 



APPENDIX. I53 



Seul, la nuit, sur ton rivage, 

Serre du magnolia ! 
Aux doux parfums de ta plaze, 

Quels doux reves j'ai faits la ! 
Mon pays a des ombrages 

Ou chante le Sabia. 

Ne permets pas que je meuse, 
O Dieu ! sans reveiur la, 

Revoir, h ma derniere heure, 
La fleur de Maracaja, 

Et mes palmiers que je pleure, 
Ou chante le Sabia. 1 



O ESCRAVO! 

POR LUIZ FAGUNDES VARELLA. 

Dorme! beidito o archange tenebroso 

Gujo dedo immortel 
Gravon te sobre a testa bronzeado 

O sigillo fatal ! 

1 This Brazilian poetry, of Gongalves Dias, which has been set 
to music by M, Amat, accompanied by the guitar, has an exquisite 
grace and the perfume of the country. I have had the pleasure 
of having it heard at my home sometimes, and, thanks to the com- 
poser, it always was the success of the evening. 



154 A PARISIAN IN BRAZIL. 

Dorme ! se a terra devoron se deuta 

De ten rosto o suor 
Mai compassiva agora te agasalha 

Com zelo e com amor. 

Ninguem te disse o adeus da despedida 

Ninguem por ti choron 
Embora ! a humanidade em tere sudario 

Os olhos euxugon ! 
A verdade lugio por um momento 

De teus irmaos a grei 
Se vivo, loste escravo, es morto livre 

Pela suprema lei ! 

Su suspiraste como o Hebreu captivo 

Saudoso de Jordao 
Pesado a chaste o ferro da revolta 

Nao o quizeste, nao ! 
Laugaste te sobre a terra inconsciente 

De teu proprio poder 
Contra o direito, contra a naturega 

Preferiste morrer ! 

Do augusto condemnado as leis sao santas 

Sao leis porem de amor 
Por amor de ti mesmo e dos mais homens 

Precisa era o valor. 



APPENDIX. 155 



Nao o tiveste ! os ferros e os agoites 

Mattarao te a razao 
Dobrado captivero ! a teus algozes 

Dobrada punicao. 

Porsque nos teus momente de supplicio 

De agonia a de dor. 
Nao chamaste das terras Africanas 

O rento assolador ? 
Elle traria a forga e a persistencia 

A tu alma sem fe. 
Nos rugides dos tigres de Benguella 

Dos leoes de Guine ! 

Elle traria o fogo dos desertes 

O sol dos areoes 
A voz de teus irmaos viril et forte 

O brado de teus pois ! 
Elle te sopraria as molles fibras 

A raiva de suao. 
Quando agitando as crinas inflammadas 

Fustiga a solidao. 

Entao ergueras resoluto a fronte 

E grande em teu valor 
Mostraras que em tern seio inda vibrava 

A voz do Creator. 



I56 . A PARISIAN IN BRAZIL. 

Mostraras que das sombras do martyrio 

Tambem rebenta a luz 
Oh ! teus grilhoes seriao tao sublimes 

Tao santos como a cruz ! 

Mas morreste sem luctas, sem protestos, 

Sem um grito sequer 
Como a ovelha no alter, coma a crianga 

No ventre da mulher. 
Morreste sem mostrar que tinhas n'alma 

Uma chispa do Ceo 
Como se um crime sobre ti pesasse 

Como se fora reo ! 

Sem defeza sem preces sem lamentos. 

Sem cyrios, sem caxao 
Passaste da senzala ao cemilerio 

Do lixo a podridao ! 
Sua essencia immortal onde e que estava ? 

Onde as leis do Senhor ? 
Digao no o tronco, o latego, as algemas 

Eas ordeno de feitor ! 

Eras o mesmo ser, a mesma essencia 

Que teu barbaro algoz 
Forao seus dias de rosada seda 

Os teus, de atro retroz. 



APPENDIX. I57 



Patria, familia, ideas, esperangas, 

Crengas, religiao, 
Tudo matom te, em flor no intime d'alma 

O dedo da oppressao. 

Tudo, tudo abateu sem do nem pena 

Tudo, tudo meu Deos ! 
E teu olhar a lama condemnado 

Esqueceu se dos Ceos ! 
Dorme ! bemaito o Archanjo tenebroso 

Cuja cifra immortal 
Sellando te no sepulero, abrio te os olhos 

A* luz universal ! 



L'ESCLAVE. 

POESIE DE FAGUNDES VARELLA. 

Dors ! Beni soit Tarchange des te'nebres, 
Dont le doigt immortel 
A grave sur ta tete bronze'e 

Le sceau fatal ! 
Dors ! Si la terre alteree 

A bu la sueur de ton frout, 
M&re compatissante, a pre'sent elle t'enveloppe 
Avec soin et amour. 






I58 A PARISIAN IN BRAZIL. 

Personne ne t'a dit l'adieu supreme, 
Personne n'a pleure sur toi. 
Qu importe ! l'humanite a ton suaire 

S'est essuye les yeux. 
La verite a lui pour un moment 
Sur le sort de tes freres. 
Si, vivant, tu fus esclave, tu es mort libre 
De par la loi supreme. 

Tu soupirais comme l'Hebreu captif 
Regrettant le Jourdain ; 
Mais tu ne voulus pas t'armer pour la revolte, 

Tu ne voulus pas, non ! 
Tu passas sur la terre, inconscient 
De ton propre pouvoir. 
Contre ton droit, et malgre la nature, 
Tu preferas mourir. 

Du divin condamne pourtant les lois sont saintes, 
Et ces lois sont toutes d'amour. 
Pour Tamour de toi-meme et pour l'amour des 
autres, 
II te fallait prendre courage. 
Tu n'en eus pas ! La prison et le fouet 
Ont tue ta raison. 
Double captivite ! Pour tes bourreaux aussi, 
Chatiment double. 



APPENDIX. I59 



Pourquoi, dans tes moments de supplice, 
De douleur, d'agonie, 
N'appelais-tu pas, de 1 'Afrique, 

Le vent devastateur ? 
U aurait apporte force et perseverance 
A ton ame sans foi, 
Dans le rugissements des tigres du Bengale 
Et des lions de Guinee ! 

II t* aurait apporte le feu de tes deserts 
Et le soleil ardent des sables, 
Et la voix de tes freres, forte et virile, 

Et le cri de tes peres. 
II aurait souffle sur tes fibres amollies 
La rage du semoun, 
Lorsque, agitant ses crinieres euflammers, 
II fustige le desert. 

Alors, tu aurais releve la tete fierement, 
Et, grand dans ton courage, 
Tu aurais prouve que dans ton ame 

Vibrait encore la voix du Createur, 
Et que, des ombres du martyre, 
Peut aussi jaillir la lumiere. 
Oh ! tes chaines, alors, eussent pu etre belles, 
Et sainte aussi ta croix ! 



l6o A PARISIAN IN BRAZIL. 

Sans protestations, sans lutte tu mourus, 
Sans merae un cri, 
Comme la brebis sur l'autel, 

Comme l'enfant dans le sein maternel. 
To mourus sans montrer que tu portais dans Tame 
Une etincelle encore du ciel, 
Comme si quelque crime, enfin, pesait sur toi, 
Et que tu te sentisses coupable. 

Sans defense, sans prieres, sans lamentations, 
Sans cierges, sans meme une biere, 
Tu as passe de la senzala au cimetiere, 

De la boue h la pourriture. 
Ou done etait ton essence immortelle 
Et la loi du Seigneur ? 
En prison, sous le fouet, on sous de lourdes chaines, 
Aux ordres du feitor. 

Tu etais cependant un etre de la meme essence 
Que ton barbare bourreau. 
Pourquoi ses jours furent-ils tisses de soie rose it 

Et les tiens tisse's de noir ? 
Et Patrie, et famille, esperances, pense'e. 
Saintes croyances, religion, 
Tout mouruten sa fleur, dans le fond de ton ame, 
Sous le joug de V oppression. 



APPENDIX. l6l 



Tout, elle abattit tout, sans remords et sans peine, 
Tout, helas ! tout, mon Dieu ! 
Et ton oeil, condamne pour jamais a la boue, 

Fut oublieux du ciel. 
Dors ! Beni soit l'archange des tenebres 
Dont la main immortelle, 
En te scellant dans le sepulcre, ouvrit tes yeux 
A la lumiere eternelle. 



SONG OF EXILE. 

My country has shades 
Where the Sabia sings. 

The bird of your glades 
No like melody brings. 

Our heaven has more stars, 
Our fields have more flowers, 

Our woods have more life, 
Our life has more love. 

Dreaming by the sea-waves 
Unforgotten pleasure brings, 

In thy palm-trees' shades, 
Where the Sabia sings. 



1 62 A PARISIAN IN BRAZIL. 

Alone, at night, on the shore 
Of thy magnolia land, 

Perfumed breezes wafted o'er 
My dreams, so sweetly made 

In the palm-trees' shade, 
Where the Sabia sings. 

Permit not that I should die, 
O God, without returning 

There, to see in my last hour 
The magnolia flower, 

And my palms, for whom I sigh, 
With the Sabia's singing. 



THE SLAVE. 

POETRY BY FAGUNDES VARELLA (CALLED THE BRAZILIAN MUSSET). 

Sleep ! Blessed be the archangel of darkness, 
Whose immortal finger 
Hath graven on thy bronzed head 

The fatal seal ! 
Sleep! If the thirsty world 

Hath drunk the sweat of thy brow, 
Compassionate Mother Earth now envelops thee 
With care and love. 



APPENDIX. * 163 



No one bade thee a last good -by, 
No tear was shed o'er thee — 
Who cares ? Humanity at thy shroud 

Hath wiped its eyes. 
Truth shone for a moment 

O'er the fate of thy brethren. 
If living, thou wast in bonds, dying thou becamest 
free 
By the law divine. 

Thou wast sighing like captive Israel 
Regretting Jordan ; 
But thou wouldst not arm thyself for conflict, — 

Thou wouldst not, no ! 
Thou didst pass o'er the earth unconscious 
Of thy rightful power 
'Gainst thy right, 'gainst nature, 
Thou preferredst death. 

Yet the divine Condemned One's laws are holy, 
And those laws are full of love, 
For love of self and for love of others. 
Thou shouldst have taken courage. 
Thou hadst not : prison bars and lash 
Had killed thy reason. 
Double captivity ! For thy oppressors too 
Double chastisement. 



164 A PARISIAN IN BRAZIL. 

Why, in thy moments of torment, 
Pain, and agony, 
Calledst thou not Africa's 

Devastating wind ? 
It would have brought strength and perseverance 
To thy fainting soul, 
In the roaring of the tigers of Bengal 
And the lions of Guinea. 

It would have brought thee the fire of thy deserts 
And the burning sun o'er the sands, 
And the voice of thy brethren, strong and manly, 

With the cry of thy fathers. 
It would have blown on thy bruised limbs 
Simuom's fury, 
When, shaking his enfuriated manes, 
He sweeps the desert. 

Then, lifting thy head proudly, 
And strong in thy courage, 
Thou wouldst have proven that in thy soul 

Vibrated still the Creator's voice, 
And that out of the shades of martyrdom 
Light can burst. 
Oh ! then could thy chains have been glorious, 
And sacred also thy cross ! 



APPENDIX. 165 



Without struggling, without protestations, 
Not even a cry, thou didst die 
Like the lamb upon the altar, 

Even as the unborn child. 
Thou didst die without showing that in thy soul 
Still smouldered a spark of heaven, 
As if some crime still weighed upon thee 
And by its guilt accused thee. 

Without defence, without prayer, without tears, 
Without tapers, not even a bier, 
Thou didst pass from the hut to the grave, 

From mire to decay. 
Where then was thine immortal soul, 
And the Saviour's law ? 
In prison, under the lash, or in heavy chains 
Under the oppressor's command. 

Yet thou wast a being of the same essence 
As thy barbarous oppressor, 
Why were his days woven in rose-color 

And thine in black ? 
Father-land and family, hopes, thoughts, 
Holy creeds, religion, 
All died in their prime, in the depth of thy soul, 
Under the oppressor's yoke. 



1 66 A PARISIAN IN BRAZIL. 

All, all was crushed, without remorse or feeling, 
All, alas ! all, my God ! 
And thine eye, evermore condemned to the 
earth, 
Lost sight of heaven. 
Sleep ! Blessed be the archangel of darkness, 
Whose immortal hand 
In sealing thy sepulchre opened thine eyes » 
To eternal light. 



52 PUBLICATIONS OF JAMES H. EARLE, BOSTON. 

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PUBLIC A TIONS OF /AMES H. EARLE, BOSTON. 29 



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"A bright, chatty story, sure of 
popularity." — Boston Daily Journal. 

"Mrs. Wilder is a contributor to 
several prominent publications, and her book is of great interest." 
— Lawrence Daily American. 

"Mrs. Wilder has entered upon a bright literary career." — 
Boston Herald. 

"A book that leads one across the Atlantic, to holidays in 
Germany, ought to be charming, and I am sure it will be in the 
treatment of Mrs. Wilder's pen." --- From Hezekiah Butterworth, 
of the Youth's Compa7tion. 

"Bright, interesting, and instructive for old and young." — 
Wilton {Me.) Record. 




Any Book mailed postpaid on receipt of price. 



PUBLICATIONS OF JAMES H. EARLE, BOSTON. 5 



A Wedding in War-Time. By Rev. Emory J. 

Haynes, D.D. Author of '• Dollars and Duty," 
" Are Taese Things So ? " etc. 12010. $1.50. 

The volume is marked with its 
author's well-known brilliancy of 
description and vigor of imagi- 
nation, interwoven with the in- 
tense excitement and incident of 
the war. It is not only a story 
of love and marriage, but of 
heroic sacrifice that should stir 
young men and women to make 
the most of themselves. 

"Mr. Haynes is one of our 
most popular and practical cler 
gymen." — Journal of Education , 
Boston. 

"The brilliant preacher of 
I Tremont Temple is equally suc- 
cessful with his books as with his 
sermons." — Zion's Herald, Boston. 

A Pilgrim Family (Stcry of). 

Octavo. Fully illus'rated. 
Cloth, $3.00. Library, half 
morocco, gilt edges, $4.00. 




By Rev. John Alden 



The author of this portly vol- 
ume writes not merely for his 
friends, but for the wide circle of 
people w T ho honor the memory of 
his ancestor of Mayflower Fame. 
Part third is devoted to the history 
of the Alden family from the found- 
ing of the Plymouth Colony down 
to the present. 

Aunt Sally and the Amale- 

kites. Per dozen, 15 cts. 
Per hundred, $1.25. 




Any Book mailed postpaid on receipt of price 



j6 PUBLICAZrONS OF JAMES H. EARLE, BOSTON, 



Light on the Pathway. By " L. B. E." (Mrs. Earle.) 
Author of "Lessons of Trust," "Miss Havergal's 
Story,"" How I Found Jesus,' etc. i6mo, uniform 
with "Lessons of Trust." Cloth, red edges, 75 cts. 

In this helpful volume, the author, in her well known clear and 
happy manner, gathers the light and throws it on the dajly path, 
with wise counsel and practical suggestion, for the home life, and 
for individual need. It is a book for parents, teachers, preachers, 
converts, and all who would make the most and best of life. 

Life-Line Songs. By Rev. E. S. Ufford. Octavo. 
Words and music, 10 cts. $1.00 per dozen. 

This collection of religious songs for Gospel meetings, Y. M. C 
A. conventions, etc., includes the charming and popular song, 
"Throw Out the Life-line," of which Mr. Ufford is the author. 

Log Cabin to Whit© House Series. These volumes, 

designed especially for young men and women, boys 

and girls, but 
alike fascinat- 
ing to all ages 
and classes, 
have reached 
a n aggregate 
sale of nearly 

500,000 COPIES. 

Eight 1 2 m o 
volumes uni- 
formly and 
sump tuously 
bound in fine 
cloth ; embel- 
lished in gold 
and colors. In 
a neat box, 
$11.25. 




Any Book mailed postpaid on receipt of Price, 




PUBLICATIONS OF JAMES &. EARLE, BOSTON, n 

Child of the Sea (The), By Kathleen M. Smith. 

Author of "Orphan Lottie," 
etc. Elegant i2mo. Illus- 
trated. Cloth, $1.50. 

A strong, pure, fresh story, re- 
markable for the vigor of its plot, 
the individuality of its characters, 
the unity of its parts, all of which 
delight the reader and inspire to 
better living. The author's style is 
a model of clear, vigorous, and effec- 
tive method. 

Child Jesus (The). By Mrs. E. S. Bass. Over 100 
illustrations. Superbly finished. Silk cloth, gold 
and black. 6x7 3-4, $1.50. Full gilt, $2.00. 

This is the matchless story of the childhood of Jesus, crowded 
with the touches and charms of style, the illustrations, incidents, 
descriptions, questions, and replies, which spring up in the mind 
and heart of a wise mother in unfolding it to her child. 

Wherever little folks brighten the home, this delightful and 
devout book will have a welcome. 

Charlie Colson : The Drummer Boy. By M. L. 

Rossvally, Surgeon, U. S. Army. Uniform with 
Earle's Wide-World Series for the People. Octavo. 
Illustrated. Colored cover, 5 cents. A thrilling 
story of army experience, and the final victory of 
the Great Commander of the universe over this well- 
known surgeon. Send for list of new volumes in 
this series. 



Any Book ?nailed postpaid on receipt of price. 



PUBLICATIONS OF JAMES H. EARLE, BOSTON, is 

Character (Building A). For young men. By A. P. Pea- 
body, d. d., ll.d., Professor of Theology, Harvard 
College. Elegant square i8mo. Cloth. 30 crs. 

" No words can well overstate the excellence of this volume."— 
Morning Star, Boston. 

"Many whole libraries have no more of real value in them than 
these pages." — Congregationalism Boston. 

"Marked with the grace and culture of this widely known 
scholar." — Yale C our ant. 

Cottage to Castle. The boyhood, youth, manhood, old 
age and death of Gutenburg, and the fascinating 
story of his skill, faith, perseverance and triumph in 
the discovery and use of the art of printing. By 
Mrs. E. C. Pearson, author of " Ruth's Sacrifice," 
" Our Parish," etc., etc. Elegant 121110, fully illus- 
trated. $1.25. Gilt edges, $1.75. Library Edi- 
tion, $2.00 

" The history is one full of romance and well told." — Harper 's 
Magazine. 

" The story of Gutenburg*s trials, is most graphically told."— 
Boston Traveller. 

" Clear, comprehensive and impressive."— Literary Wort*. 

Don't Spend Your Money for Rum. Words and 

music by Mrs. M. Carter. Quarto. 25 cts. 

A touching story in verse, set to music and accompaniment, 
suited to temperance gatherings and the fireside. 



Any Book mailed postpaid on receipt of price* 



PUBLICATIONS OF JAMES H. EARLE, BOSTON i 7 

Dollars and Duty. By Emory J. Haynes, Pastor o' 
Tremont Temple, Boston. Large i2mo., of over 456 
pages. Cloth. Richly embellished in gold and ink 
designs. $1.50. 

" A quaint and interesting story, given with fidelity to all sides 
of human nature, and specially well told."— The Critic, New 
York. 

" Characterized by_thc brilliancy and vigor and beauty which 
distinguish the public utterances of the author."— The In terior, 
Chicago. 

" Written with a grace and charm that cannot fatf tc attrajt 
attention." — Journal of Education, Boston 

" Dramatically and eloquently written." — Zion's Herald, Boston, 

u We wish every young man in the country could read this ad- 
mirable book." — Central Baptist, St. Louis. 

" A charming book upon vital and significant phases of our so- 
cial and religious life." — The Standard, Chicago. 

"The new work by the pastor of Tremont Temple reminds one 
forcibly of a book which was very popular a quarter of a century 
ago, entitled " Life in a Country Parsonage," and which wrung 
tears from many an eye which is old now. Its title, 'Dollais 
and Duty/ declares its character immediately. A young man, 
the son of a clergyman, has presented to him the choice between 
a princely fortune and the ministry of God. He chooses the 
latter, but it seems to be a case in which the Scriptural prophecy, 
'Seek ye first the kingdom of God, and all these things shall be 
added unto you,* is fulfilled, as the wealth comes to him with his 
wife. The story is charmingly written, reminding one, in its re- 
•igious tone, and sharp, terse sentences, of the writings of the 
late William M. Baker."— Daily Globe, Boston. 



Any Booh mailed postpaid on receipt of price* 



i8 PUBLICATIONS OF JAMES H. EARLE, BOSTON. 

Earle's Wide-World Series for the People. By well- 
known writers. Fully and attractively illustrated. 
Octavo, with colored, illustrated cover. Well print- 
ed, on fine paper. 5 cents per volume. 

This new venture on a series of popular stories for the people 
seeks to gratify the enormous demand for fiction, but to do it 
with stories thoroughly fascinating, striking, and even bordering 
on the sensational in style and illustration ; but pure, clean, and 
helpful in every line and page, and thereby to take the place of the 
morbid, unhealthy, cheap literature that floods the country. 

" We commend these stories, only wishing that they would kill 
the * penny dreadfuls.' There is a fulness of gospel truth in most 
of these stories which makes us desire to see them widely scattered 
among the tale-lovers of the period." — Sword and Trowel 

" The class of pernicious literature sown broadcast among the 
peoplecan only be counteracted by a cheap and plentiful supply 
of entertaining literature of a better kind. This these stories 
supply, and they are of a nature that will commend them to the 
popular mind. They are captivating, stimulating, and entertain- 
ing." — The Christian News. 

" These cheap and wholesome books are admirably adapted to 
counteract the pernicious literature that issues in such profusion 
from the printing press of these days. The precious lessons are 
so attractively interwoven with the incidents and accidents of daily 
life as to give the books all the charm of the inferior sorts they 
are meant to supersede. They are worthy of a broadcast circula- 
tion."— The Reaper. 

" The Series will include some fifty volumes ; the first eight 
are as follows : — 



I. The California Nugget. 
II. The Drummer Boy. 

III. Roy, the Silent. 

IV. Through Trial and Hove. 



V. Dudley Carleton's Wif e. 
VI. Nobody's Darling. 
VII. Heft Alone. 
VIII. Mary, the Poacher's Wife. 



They may well be purchased by the hundreds by employers, 
workers, and schools, and distributed freely. 

May be ordered of booksellers and newsdealers, or of the pub- 
lishers. 



Anv Book mailed postpaid on receipt of price. 



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